The other set his square jaw the more firmly amid its abundant folds of flabby flesh.
"Let it pass?" he interrupted with heavy excitement. "If something isn't done to stop the infernal impudence of these literary scribblers there will be no peace in life. There is nothing sacred! They ought to be punished, and I'll follow this rascal if it costs me every dollar I'm worth. I came to you because I thought you'd sympathize with me."
Mr. Harbinger moved uneasily in his chair like a worm on a hook.
"Why, really, Barnstable," he said, "I feel as you do about the impudence of writers nowadays, and I'd like to help you if I could; but—"
The other broke in with a solemn doggedness which might well discourage any hope of his being turned from his purpose by argument.
"I mean to bring suit for libel, and that's the whole of it."
"Perhaps then," the lawyer responded with ill concealed irritation, "you will be good enough to tell me whom the suit is to be against."
"Who should it be against? The author of 'Love in a Cloud,' of course."
"But we don't know who the author of that cursed book is."
"I know we don't know; but, damme, we must find out. Get detectives; use decoy advertisements; do anything you like. I'll pay for it."