Geoffrey Betton awakens at a late hour in his pleasant apartment on Fifth Avenue. Eighteen months earlier, he had been in quite a different set of circumstances: he had lived in a crowded building, waking up at seven to be at work by nine, and he had shared a cluttered bathroom with other lodgers. In contrast, his current apartment is very nice, but he no longer takes any joy in it.
This is because he is now a famous novelist, having published Diadems and Faggots two years ago. Since then, he has been exhausted by the deluge of letters he has received from readers. The letters seem devoid of real meaning, and Betton finds them—and the requests they contain—overwhelming. This morning he is particularly stressed because his next novel, Abundance, is about to be published. He knows that “the letters, the cursed letters, [will] begin again.”
Betton's valet, Strett, brings him two notes. One of the notes announces that a Duncan Vyse is coming to see Betton at ten. Strett reminds him that at ten he is supposed to be seeing applicants for a secretarial position, but Betton says he will see Vyse first.
Betton remembers his friendship with Vyse after they had left college. Vyse wrote a novel, The Lifted Lamp, which Betton promised himself he would recommend to his own soon-to-be publisher, Apthorn. However, over the following six months he repeatedly forgot to contact Apthorn. Eventually a girl, presumably sent by Vyse, came to Betton’s home and retrieved the manuscript. Betton was appalled that Vyse would send someone Betton didn't know to his lodgings, and therefore feels "magnanimity" in seeing Vyse at all.
It transpires that Vyse has come to apply for Betton’s secretarial position. He says he has given up writing, and his office job does not pay him enough to live on. Betton, embarrassed, explains that the job entails replying to letters from readers under Betton's name. Vyse asks when he should begin work, and Betton asks him to return the following Thursday, after the new book has been published.
As letters about Abundance begin to pour in, Betton feels an immense sense of freedom knowing that he doesn't have to answer them. Vyse asks for Betton's approval of his first few replies; Betton says they’re “too beautiful” and Vyse revises his tone accordingly.
After a while, Betton’s feeling of freedom wears off. He thinks he might like to read some of the letters—after all, it is nice to read praise he doesn't have to reply to. He asks Vyse to pass the letters to him before answering them, and gradually returns to reading all the letters upon delivery.
One day, Betton notes that the rush of letters has slowed significantly. He thinks that Vyse might be keeping some back, but Vyse says that no, he has given every letter received to Betton. Some of the letters have been critical of Betton’s novel, and he starts to feel embarrassed at the thought of Vyse reading them. He assumes that after his neglect of Vyse’s manuscript, Vyse "would naturally take a vindictive joy in any unfavourable judgments passed on his rival's work." As time goes on—and the letters become less favorable—Betton thinks he should "get rid of Vyse" to avoid embarrassment.
Betton asks Vyse to dinner, where he tells him that he is "ashamed" to ask Vyse to do work which is "not worthy" of him. In response, Vyse confesses that he is extremely poor and would keep his position even for lower pay. Betton feels guilt about having left Vyse's novel "gathering dust" for months without passing it to Apthorn. He cannot bear to dismiss Vyse.
The daily letters become fewer and fewer. Though he’d wanted Vyse gone, Betton feels it would be a "triumph" for Vyse if the letters were to stop. Given this “intolerable” prospect, and considering his secretary’s poverty, Betton comes up with a plan. He tells Vyse he no longer wishes to see all the letters before Vyse answers them. Soon, the volume of correspondence increases; Vyse cheerfully says...
(The entire section is 1,220 words.)