"As to that," the Archdeacon replied, "I must ask you to bear with me one further moment while, with your permission, I have a word with my daughter and son-in-law. Chloë, my dear. Bisham. A word with you over here." He carried his dispatch-case into a corner of the lobby, where his young relatives joined him.
"Now then," he whispered, "here we are at the critical moment. Which is it to be? Am I to exhibit my manuscript to these people and so force Bisham to admit my claim, or is Bisham to admit it without compulsion? Remember, please, that if you make me produce the manuscript, your income from the sale of my books ceases automatically; whereas if you give in, it continues undiminished. Now choose, and quickly."
"Not us," whispered Chloë. "It's for
