I can't say: 'Well, I've told the truth about you, so throw me out'." The novelist grinned.

"Thus it is when 'Art' becomes entangled with the family of 'Materialism.' It's hard to break away from the flesh-pots--even when you know you are on the road to the Promised Land.

But don't worry--'The Age' will take the initiative fast enough when she sees your portrait of her.

Wow! In the meantime, let's play their game to-night, and take what spoils the gods may send.

There will be material here for pictures and stories a plenty." As they went up the wide steps and under the portal into the glare of the lights, and caught the sound of the voices within, he added under his breath, "Lord, man, but 'tis a pretty show!--if only things were called by their right names.