“Stanhope has wanted to transfer it to the Market Gazette for some time,” she went on as she wrote.
“That's not a newspaper. You'll get no notices there.”
“Cheaper on that account, probably.”
“They charge like the very deevil. D'ye know the rates of them?”
“I can't say I do.”
“There's a man on our staff that doesn't like your show. We'll be able to send him every night now.”
“When we withdraw our advertisement?”
“Just then.”
“All right,” said Hilda. “It will be interesting to point out in the Indian Empire the remarkable growth of independent criticism in the Chronicle since Mr. Stanhope no longer uses the space at his disposal. I hope your man will be very nasty indeed. You might as well hand over the permanent passes—the gentleman will expect, I suppose, to pay.”
“They'll be in the yeditorial department,” said Mr. Macandrew, but he did not summon a messenger to go for them. Instead he raised his eyebrows in a manner that expressed the necessity of making the best of it, and humorously scratched his head.