'You don't want colour in a review of a book of that sort. You only want intelligence and exact knowledge.'
'Oh, Clitherton's all right. His head's screwed on the right way. He knows his subject.'
'Not well enough. He's a political theorist, not a good economist. That's hopeless. Why didn't you get Hinkson to do it?'
'Hinkson can't write for nuts.'
'Doesn't matter. Hinkson wouldn't have slipped up over his figures or dates.'
'My dear old chap, writing does matter. You're going crazy on that subject. Of course it matters that a thing should be decently put together.'
'It matters much more that it should be well informed. It is, of course, quite possible to be both.'
'Oh, quite. That's the idea of the Fact, after all.'
'Peacock, I hate all these slipshod fellows you get now. I wish you'd chuck the lot. They're well enough for most journalism, but they don't know enough for us.'
Peacock said, 'Oh, we'll thrash it out another time, if you don't mind.
I've got to get through some letters now,' and rang for his secretary.