[6]BeforeDixoncouldrollhimselfintoaballoreventakeoffhisglasses, thevanhadbrakedanddisappeared, thebus-driver, hismouthopeningandshuttingvigorously, hadsomehowsquirmedhisvehicleagainstthefarwall, and, withanechoingrattle, , thoughonthewholegladatthisescape, feltatthesametimethattheconversationwouldhavebeenappropriatelyroundedoffbyWelch’:‘IfIwereyou, Dixon, , Ihaven’tthespecializedknowledgetojudge...’Hisvoicequickened:‘Ican’ttell, canI? Whatit’’snouseanybodycomingtomeandasking “What’syoungDixon’sstufflike?”unlessIcangivethemanexpertopinionofwhatit’sworth, isitnow? Butanacceptancebyalearnedjournalwould...would...You, wellyoudon’tknowwhatit’sworthyourself, howcanyou?’
[7]Dixonfeltthat, onthecontrary, , thething’sworthcouldbeexpressedinoneshorthyphenatedindecency ; fromanother, itwasworththeamountoffrenziedfact-grubbingandfanaticalboredomthathadgoneintoit; fromyetanother, itwasworthyofitsaim, theremovalofthe ‘badimpression’he’: ‘No, ofcoursenot, Professor.’
[8]‘Andyousee, Faulkner, it’sratherimportanttoyouthatitshouldturnouttobeworthsomething, ifyouseewhatImean.’
