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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 41
stage heroines, or did she hope to increase her own
magnitude by assuming the identities of her superiors?
When I had come to the end of my arguments, I
suggested that she should make a start by translating
the works of foreign authors ; I told her this would help
to form her style and make her known to publishers.
" Is a translator well paid? " she asked.
"Fairly well," I replied, "if she knows her business."
" Perhaps you will think me mercenary," she continued,
"but work for its own sake doesn’t attract me."
Like so many women of our time, she was seized with
the mania of earning her own living. The Baron made
a grimace plainly indicative of the fact that he would far
rather see her taking an active interest in the management
of her house and servants, than contributing a few shil-
lings towards the expenses of a neglected home.
Since that day she had given me no peace, begging me
to find her a good book and a publisher.
I had done my utmost, and had succeeded in procuring-
for her two quite short articles, destined for " Miscella-
neous Items " in one of the illustrated magazines, which
did not, however, remunerate its contributors. For a
whole week I heard nothing of the work, which could
easily have been accomplished in a couple of hours. She
lost her temper when the Baron teasingly called her a
sluggard ; in fact, she was so angry that 1 saw he had
touched a very sore spot, and stopped all further allusions,
afraid of making serious mischief between the couple.
This was how matters stood at the time of my rupture
with her.
... I sat in my attic with her letters before me on
the table. As I re-read them, one after the other, my
heart ached for her. She was a soul in torment, a power
wasted, a voice unable to make itself heard, just like
myself. This was the secret of our mutual sympathy.
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