For years I've been jumping to the four points of the compass at the beck of your old magazine and syndicate.
I'm going to settle down and write a novel." "Piffle!" growled the editor, dropping his lanky form into a chair.
"Thank goodness, they haven't swivel chairs in the club.

I've been whirling round in one all day--a long, tall Scotch, please--but a novel! I say, piffle!" "Piffle it may be, but I'm going to have a whack at it.

If I ever do another article it will be as a millionaire's private secretary.

I should like to study his methods for saving his money.

What is it this time ?" "A dash to the North Pole." "Never again north of Berlin or south of Assuan for mine.