“I reminded him that I was there by appointment to offer him my
book for publication. He began to swell and went on swelling and
swelling and swelling until he had reached the size of a god of about
the second or third degree. Then the fountains of his great deep were
broken up and for two or three minutes I couldn’t see him for the rain.
It was words, only words, but they fell so thickly that they darkened
the atmosphere. Finally he made an imposing sweep with his right
hand which took in the whole room, and said:
“ Books—look around you! Every place are books that are waiting
for publication. Do I want any more? Excuse me, I don’t. Good
morning.”