occurred to him. He would ask for time and when he was well out of this office he would escape from this cursed city where he had suffered as he had never suffered before.
Anyway, he explained, I'll have to consult my lawyer about this first.
You're not going to see Schwarzstein again?
I tell you I haven't seen him at all and I don't intend to see him, Ambrose declared, not without heat.
I warn you it won't do you no good with us. I wouldn't bargain. I wouldn't meet a raise from him. I offered you the highest figure a playwright's ever been offered by this firm . . . this group of artists. Here's the contract. . . . Griesheimer scratched out a few figures and substituted others. . . . You should try to get a better one in Hollywood. Come back with your name signed to it, Mr. Deacon, and you'll never regret it. You'll find us easy masters, the great man ended on a note of elephantine joviality.
At last Ambrose was free. As he walked on air down the corridor, Auburn Six remarked: I've certainly got to hand it to you. You may be a great playwright, but you're the greatest little business man who ever came out here!
