''
``I've never thought of that,'' said Septimus, ``and I'm
afraid I couldn't break away from the habit of fulsome
adulation and suddenly change my style.''
``You needn't change your style in the least,'' said
Clovis; ``merely reverse the sentiment and keep to the inane
phraseology of the thing. If you'll do the body of the song
I'll knock off the refrain, which is the thing that
principally matters, I believe. I shall charge half-shares
in the royalties, and throw in my silence as to your guilty
secret. In the eyes of the world you shall still be the man
who has devoted his life to the study of transepts and
Byzantine ritual; only sometimes, in the long winter
evenings, when the wind howls drearily down the chimney and
the rain beats against the windows, I shall think of you as
the author of `Cora with the lips of coral.' Of course, if
in sheer gratitude at my silence you like to take me for a
much-needed holiday to the Adriatic or somewhere equally
interesting, paying all expenses, I shouldn't dream of
refusing.''
Later in the afternoon Clovis found his aunt and Mrs.
Riversedge indulging in gentle exercise in the Jacobean
garden.
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