"The literary world would be sure to hear of Lady Carbury again." The composition of the review, together with the reading of the book, consumed altogether perhaps an hour of Mr. Booker's time. He made no attempt to cut the pages, but here and there read those that were open. He had done this kind of thing so often, that he knew well what he was about. He could have reviewed such a book when he was three parts asleep. When the work was done he threw down his pen and uttered a deep sigh. He felt it to be hard upon him that he should be compelled, by the exigencies of his position, to descend so low in literature; but it did not occur to him to reflect that in fact he was not compelled, and that he was quite at liberty to break stones, or to starve honestly, if no other honest mode of carrying on his career was open to him. "If I didn't, somebody else would," he said to himself.

"The literary world would be sure to hear of Lady Carbury again." The writing of the review, together with the reading of the book, took him perhaps an hour. He had done this kind of thing so often that he knew what he was about. When the work was done he threw down his pen and uttered a deep sigh, feeling it hard that he had to descend so low in literature. "If I didn't, somebody else would," he said to himself.
