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Updated: May 27, 2025
"You can send me a hundred copies of the issue," said Sir Francis, taking up his hat to go. "I suppose you're not afraid of an action for libel?" Mr. Snawley-Grubbs laughed nay, he roared, the idea seemed so exquisitely suited to his sense of humor. "Afraid? My dear fellow, there's nothing I should like better! It would establish the Snake, and make my fortune!
"And the next time you want to call me your brother in literature, pray reflect on the manner in which my fraternal affection displayed itself! good morning!" And he took his departure with a quiet step and serene manner, leaving Snawley-Grubbs to his own meditations, which were far from agreeable.
And he held out with a careless air the paper on which he had scribbled but a few minutes previously. Mr. Snawley-Grubbs smiled, and fixed a pair of elegant gold-rimmed eye-glasses on his inflamed crimson nose. "I must tell you, though," he observed, before reading, "that it is too late for this week, at any rate. We've gone to press already." "Never mind!" returned Sir Francis indifferently.
Snawley-Grubbs, who hailed him with effusive cordiality. "My dear, Sir Francis!" he said in a rich, thick, uncomfortable voice. "This is an unexpected pleasure! Won't you come upstairs? My girls are having a little informal dance just among themselves and their own young friends quite simple, in fact an unpretentious little affair!"
Stopping at a particular house in a side street leading from thence, he bade the cabman wait, and, ascending the steps, busied himself for some moments in scribbling something rapidly in pencil on a leaf of his note-book by the light of the hanging-lamp in the doorway. He then gave a loud knock, and inquired of the servant who answered it "Is Mr. Snawley-Grubbs in?"
"Next week will do as well." And he furtively watched Mr. Snawley-Grubbs while he perused the pencilled scrawl. He merely remarked, as he folded up the little slip very carefully. "Very smart! very smart, indeed! Authentic, of course?" Sir Francis drew himself up haughtily. "You doubt my word?" "Oh dear, no!" declared Mr.
He would hold up the Snake and its proprietor to the utmost ridicule and opprobrium his brilliant satire and humor would carry all before it and he, Snawley-Grubbs, would be still more utterly routed and humiliated. Weighing all these considerations carefully in his mind, the shrinking editor decided to sit down under his horsewhipping in silence and resignation.
Snawley-Grubbs hastily, venturing to lay a soothing hand on Sir Francis's shoulder. "Your position, and all that sort of thing Naturally you must be able to secure correct information. You can't help it! I assure you the Snake is infinitely obliged to you for a great many well-written and socially exciting paragraphs.
Pray, sir," here he drew from his pocket the last number of the Snake "are you the writer of this paragraph?" He pointed to it, as he flattened the journal and laid it in front of the editor on the desk. Mr. Snawley-Grubbs glanced at it and smiled unconcernedly. "No I am not. But I happen to know it is perfectly correct.
And the Snawley-Grubbs door being closed upon him, Sir Francis re-entered his cab, and was driven straight to his bachelor lodgings in Piccadilly. He was in a better humor with himself now, though he was still angrily conscious of a smart throbbing across the eyes, where Thelma's ringed hand had struck him. He found a brief note from Lady Winsleigh awaiting him. It ran as follows:
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