“Incorporate, and find an architect,” Brainard replied concisely.
“Another trust!”
“What we need is publicity,” the young magazine man announced. “I’ll look out for that!”
“What we all need now,” laughed Brainard, “is sleep. We’ve done enough for one day.” For the early morning procession of drays had begun to thunder over the pavements beneath the window. “And to-day I must engage a tailor and consult with my banker.”
“Before we go,” Farson said, “let us drink to Aladdin and his sulfur lamp! Here’s to Aladdin, the Sulfur King!”
They drank the toast, and another proposed by the actor:
“The American Drama!”
And a third which was scarcely intelligible to Farson, although the old actor considered it quite suitable:
“To Melody!”