"My readers, who represent my time, don't agree with you."
"You end your books with marriages and christenings in the most absurdly old-fashioned way"—
"I end a story as every story should end. Sensible people have a sensible curiosity to know what becomes of hero and heroine."
"Curiosity is the vice of the vulgar novel-reader. Psychological interest is the one sole interest that should concern the more cultured mind. And though you may sell your seventy thousand copies, I beg to assure you that ..."
"Had we not heard quite enough of that hot squabble?" said Kindelon to Pauline, after he had pressed with her into other conversational regions, beyond the assault and defence of these two inimical novelists.
"I rather enjoyed it," said Pauline.
"They would have presently dragged us into their argument," returned Kindelon. "It was just as well that we retired without committing ourselves by an opinion. I should have sided with Howe, though I think him an extremist."
"I know some of Mr. Bedlowe's novels," said Pauline. "They are very popular in England. I thought them simply dire."
"And Howe is a real artist. He has a sort of cult here, though not a large one. What he says is true enough, in the main. The modern novelist dares not express his religious views, unless they be of the most conventional and tame sort. And how few fine minds are there to-day which are not rationalistic, unorthodox? A man like Bedlowe coins money from his milk-and-water platitudes, while Howe must content himself with the recognition of a small though devout circle.... Did you meet the great American dramatist, by the way? I mean Mr. Osgood Paiseley. He is standing over yonder near the mantel ... that slender little man with the abnormally massive head."
"Yes, I met him," returned Pauline. "He is coming this way."