_Mrs. T._ Who? The suburbs, of course. Susan tells me the circulation in Bayswater is perfectly enormous. Of course _I_ only get it to read _her_ things. _Lady A._ So do I. Not that they are worth reading. They always seem to me to be so _banale_. _Mrs. T._ Yes, aren’t they? And so absolutely without point. _E. C._ What makes ’em print ’em, then? _Lady A._ Oh, money, of course. Her money. It’s the root of all her idylls. She’d pay anything they asked to get them published. _E. C._ H’m! Did she tell you so? _Lady A._ My dear, of course not. But I happen to--oh, do listen to this. I do think they might draw the line somewhere. It wouldn’t be so bad if they would keep it select. But really! _That_ woman! _E. C._ Well, who is it? _Lady A._ Mrs. Judesheim! A whole paragraph about her and her diamonds. _Her_ diamonds! _Mrs. T._ Not the Bridge woman? _Lady A._ Positively, my dear, though one would have thought after that last little _exposé_---- _Mrs. T._ Well, really! I wonder who they’ll put in next! _E. C._ Anyone, my dear Edith--anyone who’ll pay. That’s the way it’s done. Susan wants to dispose of her articles, and, accordin’ to you, she pays, and in they go. Mrs. Whatshername has got daughters and she wants to dispose of _them_. So, she pays, and in _they_ go. Quite simple, ain’t it? _Lady A._ Oh, but I’m _sure_ you are wrong. _Mrs. T._ I don’t think you _can_ be right. We haven’t come to _that_ yet. _E. C._ _You_ haven’t, my dear, of course. You buy the paper because you--have to read Susan’s articles. Never do myself. Hate readin’ articles, specially by people I know. But that’s just the difference between you two and this Judesheim woman. She _likes_ to see her name in print. And then, her husband’s a business man, and she knows the value of a good advertisement. _Lady A._ I _can’t_ believe it. _E. C._ Well, we’ll ask Susan when she comes. She knows all about it. She ought to be--ah, here she is. How do, my dear? _Lady Susan Southwater_ (_enters hurriedly_). You dear people. I _am_ so ashamed. I simply _had_ to finish my article for next week, and it wouldn’t come. _Lady A._ We were just talking about your articles. I particularly liked that last one in to-day’s paper. _Mrs. T._ So did I. But I think--no, I don’t like it quite as well as the one _last_ week. That was too delightful. So witty. _Lady S._ Glad you liked it. Well, are we going to cut for partners? _E. C._ In a minute. But we want to ask you about this old rag of yours. Do people pay to have their names in it? _Lady S._ Tradespeople? _They_ do, of course. _E. C._ No, no. Ordinary people like us. _Lady S._ Oh, well--but what makes you ask? _Lady A._ Well, the fact is, Edith and I don’t like the way they _will_ put our names in, and we were just saying that; and then to read a paragraph about that Mrs. Judesheim actually, and the whole thing seemed so vulgar, and we were wondering whether anyone really did pay.