"I naturally should not have been vain enough to foresee that I should have such an honor," he responded, with his most elaborate society manner.
She smirked, and nodded.
"That is very pretty," she said. "Well, I'll tell you at once, not to keep you in suspense. I came on business."
"Business?" repeated he.
"Yes, business. You see, I have just come from the Cosmopolitan Literary Bureau."
Fairfield did not look pleased. He had kept his connection with that factory of hack-work a secret, and no man likes to be reminded of unpleasant necessities.
"They have told me," she went on, "that you revised the manuscript of my novels. I must say that you have done it very satisfactorily. We women of society are so occupied that it is impossible for us to attend to all that mere detail work, and it is a great relief to have it so well done."
Fairfield bowed stiffly.
"I am glad that you were satisfied," he replied; "but it is a violation of confidence on the part of the bureau."
"Oh, you are one of us now," Mrs. Croydon observed with gracious condescension. "It isn't as if they had told anybody else. They told me, you see, that you wrote 'Love in a Cloud.'"