it go unsaid?

The money transactions caused him the most hesitation. If he took
money for another man's work, there was a name, and a very ugly name,
for that. But he would _not_ keep it. As soon as he learnt the names
of Holroyd's legal representatives, whoever they might be, he would
pay the money over to them without mentioning the exact manner in
which it had become due. In time, when he had achieved a reputation
for himself, he could give back the name he had borrowed for a
time--at least he told himself he could do so.

He stood in no danger of detection, or, if he did, it was very slight.
Vincent was not the man to confide in more than one person; he had
owned as much. He had been reticent enough to conceal his real surname
from his publishers, and now he could never reveal the truth.

All this rushed through his mind in a hurried, confused form; all his
little vanities and harmless affectations and encouragements of false
impressions had made him the less capable of resisting now.

'Well?' said Mr. Fladgate at last.

Mark's heart beat fast. He turned round and faced the publisher. 'I
suppose I had better trust you,' he said awkwardly, and with a sort of
shamefaced constraint that was admirably in keeping with his
confession, though not artificial.

'I think so. Then you are the man--this book "Glamour"'s your own
work?'

'If you must have it--yes,' said Mark desperately.

The words were spoken now, and for good or ill he must abide by them
henceforth to the end.

CHAPTER X.

REPENTE TURPISSIMUS.

No sooner had Mark declared himself the author of his dead friend's
book than he would have given anything to recall his words, not so
much from conscience (though he did feel he had suddenly developed
into a surprisingly finished scoundrel), as from a fear that his lie
might after all be detected. He sat staring stupidly at Mr. Fladgate,
who patted him on the shoulder with well-meant encouragement; he had
never seen quite so coy an author before. 'I'm very glad to make Mr.
Vincent Beauchamp's acquaintance--at last,' he said, beaming with
honest pride at the success of his tactics, 'and now we can come to
terms again.'

He did not find Mark more difficult to deal with than most budding
authors, and in this case Mark was morbidly anxious to get the money
part of the transaction over as soon as possible; he could not decide
whether his conscience would be better or worse satisfied if he
insisted