You have admitted that yourself.' He kept silence.
'Where are you ?' she went on to ask.

'What have you actually done ?' 'Two short chapters of a story I can't go on with.

The three volumes lie before me like an interminable desert.

Impossible to get through them.
The idea is stupidly artificial, and I haven't a living character in it.' 'The public don't care whether the characters are living or not .-- Don't stand behind me, like that; it's such an awkward way of talking.

Come and sit down.' He drew away, and came to a position whence he could see her face, but kept at a distance.
'Yes,' he said, in a different way, 'that's the worst of it.' 'What is ?' 'That you--well, it's no use.' 'That I--what ?' She did not look at him; her lips, after she had spoken, drew in a little.
'That your disposition towards me is being affected by this miserable failure.