mind's made up. Well, I'm a bit too wise to waste my time trying to get a man to do what he doesn't want to do. Stay and work, by all means; I leave you to your Muse. But, lord! how I shall flirt with the captain!"
With his hand he stifled a groan. "All I say is, it's dashed unkind of you, Chloë," he said. "That's all I say—it's dashed unkind of you. I don't say another word but that. What I mean, it's dashed unkind of you."
She had turned to leave him, but now she had a sudden thought and came back.
"And what," she inquired, "what might this precious work be?"
"Why, old knob," he said, "it might be addressing envelopes and it might be solving acrostics, but it isn't. As a matter of fact, I'm doing another burlesque novel on the lines of 'Trixie.' There's something
