Presently an idea struck her: she might go back to Meeson and eat her words, and sell him the copyright of her new book for L100, as the agreement provided.

That would not be enough, however; for travelling with an invalid is expensive; but she might offer to bind herself over to him for a term of years as a tame author, like those who worked in the Hutches.

She was sure that he would be glad to get her, if only he could do so at his own price.

It would be slavery worse than any penal servitude, and even now she shudders at the prospect of prostituting her great abilities to the necessities of such work as Meeson's made their thousands out of--work out of which every spark of originality was stamped into nothingness, as though it were the mark of the Beast.

Yes, it would be dreadful--it would break her heart; but she was prepared to have her heart broken and her genius wrung out of her by inches, if only she could get two hundred pounds wherewith to take Jeannie away to the South of France.