baby to feel so sore. But I am hurt."

"Good-bye, Hugo," she said.

I went to the door and down the stairs. She followed and stood
looking after me the length of the hall as I slowly put on my hat
and coat. That was the last I saw of her, in the shadow of a palm,
her girlish figure outlined against the black behind. I walked
into the street with a heart like lead, and for the first time in
my life I began to feel I was growing old.

I have been from my youth up an easy-going man, a drifter, a
dawdler, always willing to put off work for play. But for once I
pulled myself together, looked things in the face, and put my back
to the wheel. I was determined to repay that nine hundred dollars,
if I had to cut every dinner-party for the rest of the season. I
was determined to repay it, if I had to work as I had never worked
before. My first move was to change my address. I didn't want
Uncle Gingersnaps ferreting me out, and Mrs. Grossensteck weeping
on my shoulder. My next was to cancel my whole engagement book. My
third, to turn over my wares and to rack my head for new ideas.

I had had a long-standing order from Granger's Weekly for a
novelette. I had always hated novelettes, as one had to wait so
long for one's money and then get so little; but in the humour I
then found myself I plunged into the fray, if not with enthusiasm,
at least with a dogged perseverance that was almost as good.
Granger's Weekly liked triviality and dialogue, a lot of fuss
about nothing and a happy ending. I gave it to them in a heaping
measure. Dixie's Monthly, from which I had a short-story order,