"Seem to be a little out of temper, Mr. Meeson," said a voice at
his elbow, the owner of which was a big young man with hard but
kindly features and a large moustache. "What has the Governor been
doing to you?"
"Doing, Mr. Tombey? He's been cutting me, that's all--me,
Meeson!--cutting me as dead as offal, or something like it. I held out my
hand and he looked right over it, and marched by."
"Ah!" said Mr. Tombey, who was a wealthy New Zealand landowner; "and now,
why do you suppose he did that?"
"Why? I'll tell you why. It's all about that girl."
"Miss Smithers, do you mean?" said Tombey the big, with a curious flash
of his deep-set eyes.
"Yes, Miss Smithers. She wrote a book, and I bought the book for fifty
pounds, and stuck a clause in that she should give me the right to
publish anything she wrote for five years at a price--a common sort of
thing enough in one way and another, when you are dealing with some idiot
who don't know any better. Well, as it happened this book sold like
wild-fire; and, in time the young lady comes to me and wants more money,
wants to get out of the hanging clause in the agreement, wants
everything, like a female Oliver Twist; and when I say, 'No, you don't,'
loses her temper, and makes a scene.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83