Manito eBooks

Sheaves of stimulating footnotes had accumulated on his
desk.
When would all this material be published?
Mr. Eames had not the faintest idea. Meanwhile he calmly went on
collecting and collecting, and collecting. Something might turn up, one
of these days. Everybody with the slightest pretensions to scholarship
was interested in his work; many friends had made him offers of
pecuniary assistance towards the printing of a book which could not be
expected to be a source of profit to its publisher; the wealthy and
good-natured Mr. Keith, in particular, used to complain savagely and
very sincerely at not being allowed to assist to the extent of a
hundred or two. There were days on which he seemed to yield to these
arguments; days when he expanded and gave rein to his fancy, smiling in
anticipation of that noble volume--the golden Latinity of Monsignor
Perrelli enriched with twenty-five years' patient labour on the part of
himself; days when he would go so far as to discuss prospective
contracts, and bindings and photogravures, and margins, and paper.


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