'You must make it twopence in the shilling,' he said in an urbane but ultimatory tone. 'Very well,' Mr. Onions Winter surrendered at once. 'We'll say twopence, and end it.' 'And what will the price of the book be?' Henry inquired. 'Two shillings, naturally. I intend it for the Satin Library. You know about the Satin Library? You don't know about the Satin Library? My dear sir, I hope it's going to be _the_ hit of the day. Here's a dummy copy.' Mr. Winter picked up an orange-tinted object from a side-table. 'Feel that cover! Look at it! Doesn't it feel like satin? Doesn't it look like satin? But it isn't satin. It's paper--a new invention, the latest thing. You notice the book-marker _is_ of satin--real satin. Now observe the shape--isn't that original? And yet quite simple--it's exactly square! And that faint design of sunflowers! These books will be perfect bibelots; that's what they'll be--bibelots. Of course, between you and me, there isn't going to be very much for the money--a hundred and fifty quite small pages. But that's between you and me. And the satin will carry it off. You'll see these charming bijou volumes in every West End drawing-room, Mr. Knight, in a few weeks. Take my word for it. By the way, will you sign our form of agreement now?' So Henry perpended legally on the form of agreement, and, finding nothing in it seriously to offend the legal sense, signed it with due ceremony. 'Can you correct the proofs instantly, if I send them?' Mr. Winter asked at parting. 'Yes,' said Henry, who had never corrected a proof in his life. 'Are you in a hurry?' 'Well,' Mr. Winter replied, 'I had meant to inaugurate the Satin Library with another book. In fact, I have already bought five books for it. But I have a fancy to begin it with yours. I have a fancy, and when I have a fancy, I--I generally act on it. I like the title. It's a very pretty title. I'm taking the book on the title. And, really, in these days a pretty, attractive title is half the battle.' Within two months, _Love in Babylon_, by Henry S. Knight, was published as the first volume of Mr. Onions Winter's Satin Library, and Henry saw his name in the papers under the heading 'Books Received.' The sight gave him a passing thrill, but it was impossible for him not to observe that in all essential respects he remained the same person as before. The presence of six author's copies of _Love in Babylon_ at Dawes Road alone indicated the great step in his development. One of these copies he inscribed to his mother, another to his aunt, and another to Sir George. Sir George accepted the book with a preoccupied air, and made no remark on it for a week or more. Then one morning he said: 'By the way, Knight, I ran through that little thing of yours last night. Capital! Capital! I congratulate you. Take down this letter.'