“Dear Sir,—We have perused with interest your novel, Tom, Dick and Harry, and are minded to include it in our Frivolous Fiction Library. As your work is entirely unknown, and we will find it necessary to do a great deal of advertising in connection with it, we are thus incurring a considerable financial risk. Nevertheless, we are prepared to offer you a five per cent. royalty on all sales; or, if you prefer it, we will purchase the British and Colonial rights for one hundred pounds.
“Yours very truly,
“MacWaddy & Wedge.
“P.S.—Our Mr. Wedge is at present in Paris for a day or two, so if you call on him you might arrange details of publication. His address is the Hotel Cosmopolitan.”
I sat staring at the letter. It had come at last,—Success! One hundred pounds! Twenty-five hundred francs! Why, at the present rate of living it would keep us for two years; at the rate of the rue Mazarin, nearly twelve months. Never before had I realised that money meant so much. The prospect of living once more at the rate of two hundred and fifty francs a month intoxicated me. It meant chicken and champagne suppers; it meant evenings at the moving picture show; it even meant indulgence in a meerschaum pipe. Hurrah! How lovely everything would be again. As I executed a wild dance of delight I waved the letter triumphantly in the air. All the joy, the worth-whileness of life, surged back again. I wanted to rush away and tell Anastasia; then suddenly I sobered myself.
“I must contrive to see this Mr. Wedge at once. And I mustn’t go looking like an understudy for a scarecrow. Happy thought—Helstern.”
I found the sculptor in bed. “Hullo, old man!” I cried, “if you love me lend me a collar. I’ve got to interview a blooming publisher. Just sold a novel—a hundred quid.”
“Congratulations,” growled Helstern from the blankets. “Take anything you want. Light the gas when you go out, and put on my kettle.”
So I selected a collar; then a black satin tie tempted me; then a waistcoat seemed to match it so well; then a coat seemed to match the waistcoat; then I thought I might as well make a complete job and take a pair of trousers and a long cape-coat. As Helstern is bulkier than I, the clothes fitted where they touched, but the ensemble was artistic enough.
“I’m off, oh, sleepy one!” I called. “Be back in two hours or so. Your water’s nearly boiling. By the way, how did you leave the Môme?”
“Better, thank Heaven. I do believe the kid’s going to pull through. Last night she seemed to chirp up some. She actually deigned to notice her Teddy bear.”