'Edith,' said Bruce, 'come in here. I want to speak to you. Shut the door.'
She shut it, and stood waiting.
'Don't stand there. Come and sit down…. Now listen to me very seriously. I want to ask you a question.'
'How would you like me to be making about £5,000 a year—at least?'
'Need you ask?'
'And all by my own talent—not by anybody else's help.'
'It would be jolly,' she said, trying not to look doubtful.
'Jolly! I should think it would. Now I'll tell you my scheme—what I've made up my mind to do.'
'What?'
'I'm going to write a play.'