“Sort of honorarium,” put in Manning, “You’d get a royalty or a sum down for all rights.”
“Whichever you prefer,” interposed Mr. Lennard hastily, although not half-an-hour earlier he had resolved under no circumstances to sell out his interests in the play.
“It is of course difficult to get a first play produced at all,” said Eliphalet, “and the thirty or forty pounds expended may well prove money thrown away for the manager.”
“I see that—I quite see that.” (He had fixed his lowest price at one hundred down and 20 per cent. royalty, but such is the elasticity of the artistic mind that these barriers were instantly swept away.)
“Right,” said Manning. “Then, taking for granted you carry out the alterations satisfactorily, you are ready to take £30 to cover all claims?”
The talented author hesitated.
“Mr.—er—Cardomay mentioned forty.”
“Figure of speech, that’s all.”
“No, no, Manning, I think we might say forty. The extra ten payable if the play is a success.”
“That’s not business, Guv’nor.”