"We have four hundred pounds of new type coming out in the
_Almora_--she's due on Thursday," he said. "Entirely for the
advertisements. We'll have a fine display next week. It's grand
type--none of your Calcutta-made stuff."
"Pays to bring it out, does it?" asked Hilda, inattentively, copying her
letter.
"Pays the advertisers." There were ingratiating qualities in the
managerial smile. Hilda inspected them coldly.
"There's your notice of withdrawal," she said. "Good-morning."
"Think of that new type, and how lovely Jimmy Finnigan's ad. will look
in it."
"That's all right. Good-morning." Miss Howe approached the door, the
blue glance of Macandrew pursuant.
"No notices for two Wednesdays, eh? We'll have to see about that. I was
thinkin' of transferrin' your space to the third page; it's a more
advantageous position--and no extra charge--but ye'll not mention it to
Jimmy."
Miss Howe lifted an arrogant chin. "Do I understand you'll do that, and
guarantee regular notices, if we leave the advertisement with you?"
Mr. Macandrew looked at her expressively and tore, with a gesture of
moderated recklessness, the notice of withdrawal in two.
"Rest easy," he said, "I'll see about it.
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