I've been looking through it,
and it seems splendid."
She held out a small volume. I glanced at it. There was a frontispiece
showing a signed photograph of Professor Orlando Rollitt controlling
himself in spite of having long white whiskers, and then some reading
matter, printed between wide margins. One look at the book told me the
professor's methods. To be brief, he had simply swiped Marcus
Aurelius's best stuff, the copyright having expired some two thousand
years ago, and was retailing it as his own. I did not mention this to
Millicent. It was no affair of mine. Presumably, however obscure the
necessity, Professor Rollitt had to live.
"I'm going to start Mitchell on it today. Don't you think this is good?
'Thou seest how few be the things which if a man has at his command his
life flows gently on and is divine.' I think it will be wonderful if
Mitchell's life flows gently on and is divine for seven shillings,
don't you?"
* * * * *
At the club-house that evening I encountered Rupert Dixon. He was
emerging from a shower-bath, and looked as pleased with himself as
usual.
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