"He was delighted with your book, but--"
Mr. Gannon paused, and looked solemn.
"But what?" asked Moore, eagerly.
"He cannot publish it."
Moore stood looking stupidly at the little clerk for a moment quite dazed.
"Can't publish it?" he repeated slowly. "Can't publish it! Why not, sir?"
"Your work is most worthy," answered Mr. Gannon, "but who are you?"
"I don't--quite--know," faltered Moore, stunned by the sudden casting down of his so recently raised hopes.
"Ahem--er--er--nor does any one else," continued the clerk, pitilessly. "Mr. McDermot bade me say that to obtain success at the present time a book must be dedicated to some great figure of fashion."
"But I know none, sir," replied the disconsolate poet, sinking limply back on his stool. "I know none, sir."