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“It suggests niggers to me,” said Mr. Bredon. “The play, you know.”

“You mustn't put niggers in the copy,” retorted Mr. Ingleby. “Nor, of course, religion. Keep Psalm 23 out of it. Blasphemous.”

“I see. Just something about 'Better than Butter and half the price.' Simple appeal to the pocket.”

“Yes, but you mustn't knock butter. They sell butter as well.”

“Oh!”

“You can say it's as good as butter.”

“But in that case,” objected Mr. Bredon, “what does one find to say in favour of butter? I mean, if the other stuff's as good and doesn't cost so much, what's the argument for buying butter?”

“You don't need an argument for buying butter. It's a natural, human instinct.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Anyway, don't bother about butter. Just concentrate on Green Pastures Margarine. When you've got a bit done, you take it along and get it typed, and then you buzz off to Mr. Hankin with the result. See? Are you all right now?”

“Yes, thanks,” said Mr. Bredon, looking thoroughly bewildered.

“And I'll push along about 1 o'clock and show you the decentest place for lunch.”