She nodded her head.
'Well, every week books are published of more or less direct Jewish interest; I should be glad of notes about such, to brighten up the paper.'
'For anything strictly unorthodox you may count on me. If that antidote turns up, I shall not fail to cackle over it in your columns. By-the-bye, are you going to review the poison? Excuse so many mixed metaphors,' she added, with a rather forced laugh.
'No, I shan't say anything about it. Why give it an extra advertisement by slating it?'
'Slating,' she repeated, with a faint smile. 'I see you have mastered all the slang of your profession.'
'Ah, that's the influence of my sub-editor,' he said, smiling in return. 'Well, good-bye.'
'You're forgetting your overcoat,' she said; and having smoothed out that crumpled collar, she accompanied him down the wide soft-carpeted staircase into the hall, with its rich bronzes and glistening statues.
'How are your people in America?' he bethought himself to ask on the way down.
'They are very well, thank you,' she said. 'I send my brother Solomon the Flag of Judah. He is also, I am afraid, one of the unregenerate. You see, I am doing my best to enlarge your congregation.'
He could not tell whether it was sarcasm or earnest.