Even the average man of a certain age is an alarming creature
when dinner delays itself; the literary man in such a moment goes
beyond all parallel. If there be added the fact that he has just
returned from a very unsatisfactory interview with a publisher,
wife and daughter may indeed regard the situation as appalling.
Marian came in, and at once observed her mother's frightened
face.

'Father,' she said, hoping to make a diversion, 'Mr Hinks has
sent you his new book, and wishes--'

'Then take Mr Hinks's new book back to him, and tell him that I
have quite enough to do without reading tedious trash. He needn't
expect that I'm going to write a notice of it. The simpleton
pesters me beyond endurance. I wish to know, if you please,' he
added with savage calm, 'when dinner will be ready. If there's
time to write a few letters, just tell me at once, that I mayn't
waste half an hour.'

Marian resented this unreasonable anger, but she durst not reply.

At that moment the servant appeared with a smoking joint, and Mrs
Yule followed carrying dishes of vegetables. The man of letters
seated himself and carved angrily. He began his meal by drinking
half a glass of ale; then he ate a few mouthfuls in a quick,
hungry way, his head bent closely over the plate. It happened
commonly enough that dinner passed without a word of
conversation, and that seemed likely to be the case this evening.