"I should like to see files of the magazines published by Adult Fiction, Earth, if you please."
"But which magazine, sir? They publish hundreds."
"Well, as a start, let me see those which publish light fiction."
For two hours he sat in the Scholar's Room, skimming the pages of the magazines—Sagebrush Westerns, Romance and Marriage, Pinkerton's Own, Harper's, and a dozen others. He read with concentration, and made few notes. On his way home he stopped at a news-machine and selected an armful of the current issues to take home with him. He read in his room until nearly dawn, and when he did lie down he could not sleep, or rest.
"I don't believe it," he whispered to himself. "It can't be true." And, half an hour later, "How did it happen?"
At nine next morning he was sitting in the reception room of the Bureau of Public Entertainment, with brief-case on his knees, waiting for Ludwig. It was nearly noon before Ludwig himself arrived, and summoned his visitor.
He sat at his desk, his white hair rumpled, and nervously fingered his watch chain as Carre took the chair opposite.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Herbert. The Commissioners over in Safety have a bad situation to handle, and I've been trying to advise them. I'll be glad when this writing business is straightened out, and I can give full attention to Safety. What did you think of Script-Lab?"
"Well, it's very efficient."