Readings Newsletter
Become a Readings Member to make your shopping experience even easier.
Sign in or sign up for free!
You’re not far away from qualifying for FREE standard shipping within Australia
You’ve qualified for FREE standard shipping within Australia
The cart is loading…
This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
Please, sir, it’s about my salary. His age was twenty-two and his name was Roland Bleke. Mr. Fineberg, at his word, drew himself together much as a British square at Waterloo must have drawn itself together at the sight of a squadron of cuirassiers. Salary? he cried. What about it? What’s the matter with it? You get it, don’t you?
Yes, sir, but –
Well? Don’t stand there like an idiot. What is it?
It’s too much. Mr. Fineberg’s brain reeled. It was improbable that the millennium could have arrived with a jerk; on the other hand, he had distinctly heard one of his clerks complain that his salary was too large… .
$9.00 standard shipping within Australia
FREE standard shipping within Australia for orders over $100.00
Express & International shipping calculated at checkout
This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
Please, sir, it’s about my salary. His age was twenty-two and his name was Roland Bleke. Mr. Fineberg, at his word, drew himself together much as a British square at Waterloo must have drawn itself together at the sight of a squadron of cuirassiers. Salary? he cried. What about it? What’s the matter with it? You get it, don’t you?
Yes, sir, but –
Well? Don’t stand there like an idiot. What is it?
It’s too much. Mr. Fineberg’s brain reeled. It was improbable that the millennium could have arrived with a jerk; on the other hand, he had distinctly heard one of his clerks complain that his salary was too large… .