He thought of Marcus Aurelius on the futility of fame; he remembered his life-long attitude of gentle, tired scorn for the press; he reflected with wise modesty that in art nothing counts but the work itself, and that no quantity of inept chatter could possibly affect, for good or evil, his value, such as it might be, to the world.
Then he began to open the papers.
The first glimpse of their contents made him jump.

In fact, the physical result of it was quite extraordinary.

His temperature increased.

His heart became audible.

His pulse quickened.