“Of course,” said Lalage.
“(1) The Speakers are to deliver for the said election agent . . . speeches before the tenth of March.”
“I told Tithers to fill in the number of speeches he wanted,” said Lalage, “but he seems to have forgotten.”
“(2) The Speakers hereby agree to assign to the said election agent, his successors and assigns, and the said election agent hereby agrees to enjoy, the sole benefit of the above speeches in the British Empire.
“(3) When the demand for such speeches has evidently ceased the said election agent shall be at liberty——”
I paused. There was something which struck me as familiar about the wording of this agreement. I recollected suddenly that the Archdeacon had once consulted me about an agreement which ran very much on the same lines. It came from the office of a well-known publisher. The Archdeacon was at that time bringing out his “Lectures to Confirmation Candidates.”
“Has Selby-Harrison,” I asked, “been publishing a book?”
“No,” said Lalage, “but his father has.” “Ah,” I said, “that accounts for this agreement form.” “Quite so,” said Lalage, “he copied it from that, making the necessary changes. Rather piffle, I call that part about enjoying the speeches in the British Empire. It isn’t likely that Tithers would want to enjoy them anywhere else. But there’s a good bit coming. Skip on to number eight.” I skipped and then read again.
“(8) The Speakers agree that the said speeches shall be in no way a violation of existing copyright and the said agent agrees to hold harmless the said speakers from all suits, claims, and proceedings which may be taken on the ground that the said speeches contain anything libellous.”
“That’s important,” said Lalage.