"Just think of the vistas and vistas and vistas that it opens up!"
Sir Julian did so, and barely suppressed a visible shudder at the phalanx of journalistic luminaries, of whom he felt certain that the great thinkers of the day, as known to Mr. Garrett, consisted.
"How is your book going?"
"The sales haven't been very large, but it's been tremendously noticed, for a first novel," said Iris hopefully.
"You must help me to persuade Iris," said Mr. Garrett, also adding his mite to the quota of appeal so ill responded to by the unfortunate Julian. "You must help me to persuade this little woman, that big sales matter very little in comparison with the meed of recognition that 'Ben' has received from the thinking section of the reading world."
"Ruthie is up that tree," announced Ambrose loudly and suddenly, thereby for the first time becoming the unconscious object of Sir Julian's brief and passionate gratitude.
Iris, Douglas and Sir Julian all gazed upwards and became aware of Miss Easter, perilously grappling the bare limb of a leafless tree.
Followed Ruthie's inevitable discovery that the position so recklessly attained was both uncomfortable and insecure, her proclamation of immediate and excessive peril, and the issuing of annoyed ejaculations and peremptory advice from the upgazers gathered below.
"Better fetch a step-ladder at once. She'll only fall and hurt herself," said Iris.
"Where?"