'It's evident you don't, else some of them would go down on their hands and knees and never get up till this litter was tidied up a bit.'
'Never mind that now, Miss Ansell. Sit down, won't you? You must be tired. Take the editorial chair—allow me a minute.' He removed some books from it.
'Is that the way you sit on the books sent in for review?' She sat down. 'Dear me! it's quite comfortable. You men like comfort, even the most self-sacrificing. But where is your fighting editor? It would be awkward if an aggrieved reader came in and mistook me for the editor, wouldn't it? It isn't safe for me to remain in this chair!'
'Oh yes, it is! We've tackled our aggrieved readers for to-day,' he assured her.
She looked curiously round.
'Please pick up your pipe; it's going out. I don't mind smoke—indeed I don't. Even if I did, I should be prepared to pay the penalty of bearding an editor in his den.'
Raphael resumed his pipe gratefully.
'I wonder, though, you don't set the place on fire,' Esther rattled on, 'with all this mass of inflammable matter about.'
'It is very dry, most of it,' he admitted, with a smile.
'Why don't you have a real fire? It must be quite cold sitting here all day. What's that great ugly picture over there?'