Swiftly there leapt to his recollection the critic’s words, at the close of the second act. “It’s a relief to listen for once to comedy that is sincere and direct.” ... Then why, why—“He said that you were all that the play required and the play was all that you required,” he answered, which was also true, but another part of the truth. He was not minded to betray his associate.
“He’s rotten,” murmured the manager, now busy on the margin of another paper. “But I dunno as he’s any rottener than the rest.”
“On behalf of the profession of journalism, we thank you, Bezdek,” said one of the critics.
“Don’t mind old Bez,” put in the elderly first-nighter. “He always says what he thinks he means, but he usually doesn’t mean it.”
“That is perhaps just as well,” said Banneker quite quietly, “if he means that The Ledger is not straight.”
“I didn’t say The Ledger. I said Gurney. He’s crooked as a corkscrew’s hole.”
There was a murmur of protest and apprehension, for this was going rather too far, which Banneker’s voice stilled. “Just a minute. By that you mean that he takes bribes?”
“Naw!” snorted Bezdek.
“That he’s influenced by favoritism, then?”
“I didn’t say so, did I?”