``Would you marry Leonore if she were a poor man's
daughter?'' asked the man of phantom wealth.
``Yes,'' said Mark, wisely avoiding the error of
over-protestation. And to his astonishment Leonore's father
not only gave his consent, but suggested a fairly early date
for the wedding.
``I wish I could show my gratitude in some way,'' said
Mark with genuine emotion. ``I'm afraid it's rather like
the mouse proposing to help the lion.''
``Get people to buy that beastly muck,'' said Dullamy,
nodding savagely at a poster of the despised Pipenta, ``and
you'll have done more than any of my agents have been able
to accomplish.''
``It wants a better name,'' said Mark reflectively, ``and
something distinctive in the poster line. Anyway, I'll have
a shot at it.''
Three weeks later the world was advised of the coming of a
new breakfast food, heralded under the resounding name of
``Filboid Studge.'' Spayley put forth no pictures of massive
babies springing up with fungus-like rapidity under its
forcing influence, or of representatives of the leading
nations of the world scrambling with fatuous eagerness for
its possession.
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