'I'm afraid not, Mr Yule. After all, you know, you must be held
in a measure responsible for my depravity.'

'How's that?'

'I understand that you have devoted most of your life to the
making of paper. If that article were not so cheap and so
abundant, people wouldn't have so much temptation to scribble.'

Alfred Yule uttered a short laugh.

'I think you are cornered, John.'

'I wish,' answered John, 'that you were both condemned to write
on such paper as I chiefly made; it was a special kind of whitey-
brown, used by shopkeepers.'

He chuckled inwardly, and at the same time reached out for a box
of cigarettes on a table near him. His brother and Jasper each
took one as he offered them, and began to smoke.

'You would like to see literary production come entirely to an
end?' said Milvain.

'I should like to see the business of literature abolished.'

'There's a distinction, of course. But, on the whole, I should
say that even the business serves a good purpose.'