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Updated: June 25, 2025
If they suit me and I think you have the right note, I'll hire you. If not, well then I won't, and no harm done. Is that all right?" "That's all right," said Eugene. Mr. Summerfield handed him a bundle of papers, catalogues, prospectuses, communications. "You can look these over if you want to. Take them along and then bring them back." Eugene rose.
I did not know how deeply I had sinned until I heard the young man Summerfield, who came to see me even in this room." She looked up and about, as if to catch some lingering light upon the wall. "And it was Lawrence Newt's preacher who made me feel that there was hope even for me." She sewed on quietly. "I thank God for those two men; and for one other," she added, after a little pause.
Why, if the Summerfield Advertising Company can't do better than that I might as well shut up the place and go fishing. We'll be a joke in six weeks. Don't try to hand me any such God damned tripe as that, Freeman. You know better. You ought to know our advertisers wouldn't stand for anything like that. Wake up! I'm paying you five thousand a year.
The first meeting between Eugene and Colfax had been conclusive so far as future friendship was concerned. These two, like Eugene and Summerfield, were temperamentally in accord, though Colfax was very much superior to Summerfield in his ability to command men. This night when they met at dinner at Colfax's house the latter was most cordial.
He was not feeling so anxious about his future. Angela noted it. Summerfield also. The latter felt that Eugene was beginning to show his artistic superiority in a way which was not entirely pleasant. He was coming to have a direct, insistent, sometimes dictatorial manner. All the driving Summerfield had done had not succeeded in breaking his spirit. Instead, it had developed him.
Later he decided to waste no time, but to present the letter direct without phoning. At three in the afternoon he received permission from Benedict to be away from the office between three and five, and at three-thirty he was in the anteroom of the general offices of the Summerfield Advertising Company, waiting for a much desired permission to enter. When Eugene called, Mr.
He had written little; what time he had been able to spare from his work, had been given to studies in chemistry whence he had drawn the inspiration for such stories as The Case of Summerfield. With him the writing of fiction was a pastime, not a profession.
"You mean," said Summerfield, "you never ran an art department before?" "Never." "Know anything about advertising?" "I used to think so." "How long ago was that?" "When I worked on the Alexandria, Illinois, Daily Appeal." Summerfield smiled. He couldn't help it. "That's almost as important as the Wickham Union, I fancy. It sounds as if it might have the same wide influence."
His presence was inspiring, constructive. He keyed up the whole tone of the Summerfield Company merely by being there; but he was not all there was to it by many a long step. He realized this himself. He was not at all offensively egotistic simply surer, calmer, more genial, less easily ruffled; but even this was too much.
Daniel C. Summerfield was in no great rush about any particular matter, but he had decided in this case as he had in many others that it was very important that anyone who wanted anything from him should be made to wait. Eugene was made to wait a solid hour before he was informed by an underling that he was very sorry but that other matters had so detained Mr.
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