'He seems to be able to sell his pictures, so I suppose they must be
good; but nothing could give him the right to patronize you as he
does.'

'"My learned friend's manner would be intolerable in an emperor to a
black-beetle,"' quoted Beverley. 'Well, what are we going to do about
it?'

'If only you could sell a picture, too!'

'Ah! Well, I've done my part of the contract. I've delivered the goods.
There the thing is at Epstein's. The public can't blame me if it
doesn't sell. All they've got to do is to waltz in in their thousands
and fight for it. And, by the way, talking of waltzes--'

'Oh, it's finished,' said Annette, dispiritedly. 'Published too, for
that matter.'

'Published! What's the matter, then? Why this drooping sadness? Why
aren't you running around the square, singing like a bird?'

'Because,' said Annette, 'unfortunately, I had to pay the expenses of
publication. It was only five pounds, but the sales haven't caught up
with that yet. If they ever do, perhaps there'll be a new edition.'

'And will you have to pay for that?'

'No. The publishers would.'