He now addressed her as 'Annette,' and in his voice were four notes of exclamation. She came closer to him, and very quietly, but with an accent that was the very quintessence of Ibsenism, made the somewhat mercantile statement: 'I have come for my half-profits!'
'Half-profits! What do you mean? Are you mad?'
'Not in the least! I want my share in the profits of all this pretty poetry,' and she contemptuously ran her fingers over the several slim volumes on the poet's shelves which represented his own contribution to English literature.
Rondel began to comprehend, but he was as yet too surprised to answer.
'Don't you understand?' she went on. 'It takes two to make poetry like yours—
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