“I Have you seen it?” he asked.
“Aye. You’re the talk of the street.”
“That’s splendid,” he let slip before he was aware of it.
“Splendid! There’s a gentleman writing to the paper to say that you’re trading in immorality.”
“I wrote that letter myself,” grinned Sam.
“You did what?”
“I’m afraid I shall never make you understand.”
“I doubt you won’t. Lying to me like that. Expecting me to believe you write to the paper about yourself and call yourself hard names. And the letter’s signed ‘Truth-teller,’ too. It’s printed in the paper that my son has lifted the lid from the cesspool and let loose a smell to make decent people vomit.”
“Yes. I know. Advertising is a coarse art.”
“Your name’s blackened for ever. And it’s my name, Sam, and the name your father gave me. It’s the name of honest folk and——”