u know, he'll do exactly the thing
that _I_ want to do? I shall never do it myself, but he'll do it
instead. Yes, he'll do _my_ thing, and I shall hate him for it--the
wretch." Hating him was her pleasant humour, for the wretch was
personally to her taste.

She prevailed on her own publisher to promise to take _The Major Key_
and to engage to pay a considerable sum down, as the phrase is, on the
presumption of its attracting attention. This was good news for the
evening's end at Mrs. Highmore's when there were only four or five left
and cigarettes ran low; but there was better news to come, and I have
never forgotten how, as it was I who had the good fortune to bring it, I
kept it back on one of those occasions, for the sake of my effect, till
only the right people remained. The right people were now more and
more numerous, but this was a revelation addressed only to a choice
residuum--a residuum including of course Limbert himself, with whom I
haggled for another cigarette before I announced that as a consequence
of an interview I had had with him that afternoon, and of a subtle
argument I had brought to bear, Mrs. Highmore's pearl of publishers had
agreed to put forth the new book as a serial. He was to "run" it in
his magazine and he was to pay ever so much more for the privilege. I
produced a fine gasp which presently found a more articulate relief,
but poor Limbert's voice failed him once for all (he knew he was to walk
away with me) and it was some one else who asked me in what my subtle
argument had resided. I forget what florid description I then gave of
it: to-day I have no reason not to confess that it had resided in the
simple plea that the book was exquisite. I had said: "Come, my dear
friend, be original; just risk it for that!" My dear friend seemed
to rise to the chance, and I followed up my advantage, permitting
him honestly no illusion as to the quality of the work. He clutched
interrogatively at two or three attenuations, but I dashed them aside,
leaving him face to face with the formidable truth. It was just a pure
gem: was he the man not to flinch? His danger appeared to have acted
upon him as the anaconda acts upon the rabbit; fascinated and paralysed,
he had been engulfed in the long pink throat. When a week before, at my
request, Limbert had let me possess for a day the complete manuscript,
beautifully copied out by Maud Stannace, I had flushed with indignation
at its having to be said of the auth