My contract with the hitherto unnamed American Publisher is in the mail.

What? Oh, that sound? It’s my Ego tap-dancing joyously to the tune of “I told you it was real”, as performed by my SuperEgo.

When I have it in my hands, signed and returned, All Will Be Revealed. Just like the penultimate song in a Savoy operetta. (The ultimate song is, of course, the finale, which is just a rehash of the major themes previously heard during the show.)