“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,” said Sippy, jovially. “You wanted to see me about that article on the Elizabethan dramatists you left here yesterday, didn’t you? Well, I’ve read it, and I’m sorry to say, Waterbury, that it’s N.G. ”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No earthly use to us. Quite the wrong sort of stuff. This paper is supposed to be all light Society interest. What the débutante will wear for Goodwood, you know, and I saw Lady Betty Bootle in the Park yesterday⁠—she is, of course, the sister-in-law of the Duchess of Peebles, ‘Cuckoo’ to her intimates⁠—all that kind of rot. My readers don’t want stuff about Elizabethan dramatists.”

“Sipperley⁠—!”

Old Sippy reached out and patted him in a paternal manner on the back.