'Well, that's better than nothing. I've just been correcting the proofs of the last thing our man turned in. It's really excellent. Listen:
'Soon, soon all human joys must end:
Grim Death approaches with his sickle:
Courage! There is still time, my friend,
To eat a Briggs's Breakfast Pickle.'
'If you could give us something like that—'
Lancelot raised his eyebrows. His lip curled.
'The little thing I have dashed off is not quite like that.'
'Oh, you've written something, eh?'
'A mere morceau. You would care to hear it?'