PART 2
34. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
(continued)
When she went again, Mr. Dashwood was alone, whereat she
rejoiced. Mr. Dashwood was much wider awake than before,
which was agreeable and Mr. Dashwood was not too deeply absorbed
in a cigar to remember his manners, so the second
interview was much more comfortable than the first.
"We'll take this (editors never say I), if you don't
object to a few alterations. It's too long, but omitting
the passages I've marked will make it just the right length,"
he said, in a businesslike tone.
Jo hardly knew her own MS again, so crumpled and underscored
were its pages and paragraphs, but feeling as a tender
patent might on being asked to cut off her baby's legs in
order that it might fit into a new cradle, she looked at the
marked passages and was surprised to find that all the moral
reflections--which she had carefully put in as ballast for
much romance--had been stricken out.
"But, Sir, I thought every story should have some sort of
a moral, so I took care to have a few of my sinners repent."
Mr. Dashwoods's editorial gravity relaxed into a smile, for
Jo had forgotten her `friend', and spoken as only an author
could.
"People want to be amused, not preached at, you know. Morals
don't sell nowadays." Which was not quite a correct statement,
by the way.
"You think it would do with these alterations, then?"
"Yes, it's a new plot, and pretty well worked up--language
good, and so on," was Mr. Dashwood's affable reply.
"What do you--that is, what compensation--" began Jo, not
exactly knowing how to express herself.
"Oh, yes, well, we give from twenty-five to thirty for
things of this sort. Pay when it comes out," returned Mr. Dashwood,
as if that point had escaped him. Such trifles do escape
the editorial mind, it is said.
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