There was not a word of sympathy with the unfortunate publicity agent for his loss, no touch of humanity or pity, merely a bare announcement, and Angell Herald felt he was justified in saying, as he did say with a great deal of emphasis, "Damn the war!"
He fell to brooding over this letter. Publicity agents had been very badly hit by the war, and he foresaw the time when—well, anything might happen. He was awakened from his gloom by Pearl.
"I've got a friend, sir——"
"I know you have, Pearl," was the response. "You have too many friends. That's the infernal part of it. You are always marrying or burying them."
"I have a friend," continued Pearl, imperturbably, "who says that new conditions demand new methods."
Angell Herald sat up straight, and looked at Pearl. Knowing him as his employer did, this was a most extraordinary utterance. There was in it just a spark of originality.
"Pearl," said Angell Herald, "you've been drinking."
"No, sir," he replied, seriously, "I never take any alcoholic stimulant until after dinner."
"Then you have a funeral in mind," was the reply. "Something has intoxicated you."
Pearl seemed to deliberate for a moment and then replied,