determined not to shirk the responsibility of what I had written. I
want people to know beforehand exactly what kind of book they are
buying."

"Well," said Mrs. Clinch, "that's a degree of conscientiousness that
I've never met with before. So few books fulfil the promise of their
titles that experienced readers never expect the fare to come up to
the menu."

"'Fast and Loose' will be no disappointment on that score," her
cousin significantly returned. "I've handled the subject without
gloves. I've called a spade a spade."

"You simply make my mouth water! And to think I haven't been able to
read it yet because every spare minute of my time has been given to
correcting the proofs of 'How the Birds Keep Christmas'! There's an
instance of the hardships of an author's life!"

Mrs. Fetherel's eye clouded. "Don't joke, Bella, please. I suppose
to experienced authors there's always something absurd in the
nervousness of a new writer, but in my case so much is at stake;
I've put so much of myself into this book and I'm so afraid of being
misunderstood...of being, as it were, in advance of my time...
like poor Flaubert....I _know_ you'll think me ridiculous...
and if only my own reputation were at stake, I should never give
it a thought...but the idea of dragging John's name through the
mire..."

Mrs. Clinch, who had risen and gathered her cloak about her, stood
surveying from her genial height her cousin's agitated countenance.