Kroll.
I can quite understand your horror of public meetings, and your reluctance to expose yourself to their tender mercies. But an editor's work is less conspicuous, or rather
Rosmer.
No no, my dear friend, you must not ask me to do this.
Kroll.
I should be quite willing to try my own hand at that style of work too; but I couldn't possibly manage it. I have such a multitude of irons in the fire already. But for you, with no profession to tie you down. Of course the rest of us would give you as much help as we could.
Rosmer.
I cannot, Kroll. I am not fitted for it.
Kroll.
Not fitted? You said the same thing when your father preferred you to the living here
Rosmer.
And I was right. That was why I resigned it.
Kroll.
Oh, if only you are as good an editor as you were a clergyman, we shall not complain.
Rosmer.
My dear Kroll—I tell you once for all—I cannot do it.
Kroll.
Well, at any rate, you will lend us your name.
