“Good. I to you offer two thousand.”
“You tempt me, Baron, you tempt me. But I still say it can’t be done.”
“Your own price name, then.”
“I’m afraid you don’t understand the position. I’m perfectly willing to believe that you are on the side of the angels, and that these memoirs may damage your cause. Nevertheless, I’ve undertaken the job, and I’ve got to carry it through. See? I can’t allow myself to be bought off by the other side. That kind of thing isn’t done.”
The Baron listened very attentively. At the end of Anthony’s speech he nodded his head several times.
“I see. Your honour as an English gentleman it is?”
“Well, we don’t put it that way ourselves,” said Anthony. “But I dare say, allowing for a difference in vocabulary, that we both mean much the same thing.”
The Baron rose to his feet.
“For the English honour I much respect have,” he announced. “We must another way try. I wish you good morning.”
He drew his heels together, clicked, bowed and marched out of the room, holding himself stiffly erect.
“Now I wonder what he meant by that,” mused Anthony. “Was it a threat? Not that I’m in the least afraid of old Lollipop. Rather a good name for him, that, by the way. I shall call him Baron Lollipop.”
He took a turn or two up and down the room, undecided on his next course of action. The date stipulated upon for delivering the manuscript