“Number four, yes; two published and two in hand,” replied John Craik. His mind was busy elsewhere; it was with the creatures of his own imagination, living their lives, rejoicing with them, sorrowing with them.
The Count rose and walked gravely to the hearthrug, holding the proof-sheets in his hand.
“Number four,” he reiterated. “Will they go on, my friend?”
John Craik looked up sharply.
“No.”
“How many more will you accept?”
“Two more at the outside, making six in all. The public is like a greedy child, it must be stopped before it makes itself sick. Nausea leaves a lasting distaste for that which preceded it.”
The Count nodded.
“And this worldly wisdom--is it the editor or the man who speaks?”
“The editor. The editor is a man who lives by saying ‘No.’”