She descended upon Max like a very nice war horse and thrust the open magazine at him.
“Fustian, did you write this disgusting piece of effete snobbery?” she demanded.
Campion, who was wedged in by the bar and Max himself, saw that the magazine was the current issue of Life and Letters, and the article was headed “The Coarse in Paint, by Max Fustian.” Moreover, there was a photograph of him, very dark and dramatic.
It seemed as if a certain amount of unpleasantness must ensue, but Max was unruffled.
“Dear Miss Birch,” he murmured. “Of course I shall be delighted.”
And then, before anyone realized quite what he was about, he had set down his glass and taken an enormous gold pencil from the pocket of his dreadful waistcoat, signed the photograph with a flourish, and handed the paper bac
