It was there when I came into the office on the morning after we’d been to talk business with Mr. Cloyster. It had been there about an hour and a half. “Lost your bonus, Price, my boy,” said genial Mr. Leach. And the General Manager, Mr. Fennell, who had stepped out of his own room close by, heard him say it. “I do not imagine that Mr. Price is greatly perturbed on that account. He will, no doubt, shortly be forsaking us for literature. What Commerce loses, Art gains,” said the G.M. He may have meant to be funny, or he may not. Some of those standing near took him one way, others the other. Some gravely bowed their heads, others burst into guffaws. The G.M. often puzzled his staff in that way. All were anxious to do the right thing by him, but he made it so difficult to tell what the right thing was. But, as I went down the basement stairs to change my coat in the clerks’ locker-room, I understood from the G.M.’s words how humiliating my position was. I had always been a booky sort of person. At home it had been a standing joke that, when a boy, I would sooner spend a penny on _Tit-Bits_ than liquorice. And it was true. Not that I disliked liquorice. I liked _Tit-Bits_ better, though. So the thing had gone on. I advanced from _Deadwood Dick_ to Hall Caine and Guy Boothby; and since I had joined the “Moon” I had actually gone a buster and bought _Omar Khayyam_ in the Golden Treasury series. Added to which, I had recently composed a little lyric for a singer at the “Moon’s” annual smoking concert. The lines were topical and were descriptive of our Complete Compensation Policy. Tommy Milner was the vocalist. He sang my composition to a hymn tune. The refrain went: Come and buy a C.C.Pee-ee! If you want immunitee-ee From the accidents which come Please plank down your premium. Life is diff’rent, you’ll agree _Repeat_ When you’ve got a C.C.P. The Throne Room of the Holborn fairly rocked with applause.