He looked anxiously at Mr. Waddington.
"Have you read it, sir?" he asked.
Mr. Waddington shook his head.
"I make it a rule," he said, "to avoid the advertisement columns of all
newspapers. These skilfully worded announcements only serve to remind
us how a man may prostitute an aptitude, if not an art, for sheer
purposes of gain. It is my theory, Mrs. Burton," he went on,
addressing her, "that no one has a right to use his peculiar capacities
for the production of any sort of work which is in the least unworthy;
which does not aim--you follow me, I am sure?--at the ideal."
Ellen stared at him for a moment.
"I don't follow you," she declared, brusquely, "and I don't know as I
want to. About that advertisement, is it you, Alfred, who's to be one
of the directors of this Menatogen or whatever they call it? Are they
your experiences that are given here?"
"They are!" Burton groaned.
Mr. Waddington, with a heavy frown, took the paper.
"What is this, Burton?" he demanded.
"You had better read it," Burton replied, sinking into a chair. "I
mentioned it to you a little time ago. You see, the scheme has finally
come to fruition."
Mr. Waddington read the advertisement through, word by word.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263