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man from upstate New York, who wrote this book more or less as
a joke. It was an immediate, overwhelming success. There was
great speculation as to who Warner Fabian really was. We kept
the mystery going for a long, long time. I had a girl up at
Vassar at that time, and she demanded to know who Warner Fabian
was, and I made her absolutely swear that she wouldn't tell one
soul. She gave me her word of honor, and I told her it was
Rudyard Kipling. About a week later the gossip came back.
Winchell wasn't around yet, but one newspaper man boasted in
print that he had found out from an authoritative source that
Warner Fabian was Rudyard Kipling. Of course there were screams
of laughter. When I charged this girl with having spread this
story, she indignantly denied it for about an hour, then finally
confessed she had told one other girl.
That's the way rumors start! Did you realize while you
were at Boni & Liveright that Horace was just living for the day?
No, I told you he had this extraordinary flair. He had
an uncanny knack for getting bright young people around him.
I told you at one time Lillian Hellman was there, Beatrice
Kaufman, Louis Kronenberger, Manuel Komroff, Ted Weeks, Richard
Simon, myself. These were all people who went places. They
were on their way.
As far as you were concerned, did you think this was really
the way to run a publishing house?
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