reason that you should fail to make a living with your pen. Now
let me advise you; put aside all your strict ideas about what is
worthy and what is unworthy, and just act upon my advice. It's
impossible for you to write a three-volume novel; very well, then
do a short story of a kind that's likely to be popular. You know
Mr Milvain is always saying that the long novel has had its day,
and that in future people will write shilling books. Why not try?

Give yourself a week to invent a sensational plot, and then a
fortnight for the writing. Have it ready for the new season at
the end of October. If you like, don't put your name to it; your
name certainly would have no weight with this sort of public.
Just make it a matter of business, as Mr Milvain says, and see if
you can't earn some money.'

He stood and regarded her. His expression was one of pained
perplexity.

'You mustn't forget, Amy, that it needs a particular kind of
faculty to write stories of this sort. The invention of a plot is
just the thing I find most difficult.'

'But the plot may be as silly as you like, providing it holds the
attention of vulgar readers. Think of "The Hollow Statue", what
could be more idiotic? Yet it sells by thousands.'

'I don't think I can bring myself to that,' Reardon said, in a
low voice.

'Very well, then will you tell me what you propose to do?'