“If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life. Capes made a quick movement as if to bite that aggressive digit, but it withdrew to Ann Veronica’s side. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. Find that boy. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. You're luck. "Thank you," she said, and left the office. She did not answer him, as she did not know what to say.
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