‘No; you’ll probably make it worth a guinea or so. You must remember that the people who read women’s papers are irritated, simply irritated, by anything that isn’t glaringly obvious. They hate an unusual thought. The art of writing for such papers—indeed, for the public in general—is to express vulgar thought and feeling in a way that flatters the vulgar thinkers and feelers. Just abandon your mind to it, and then let me see it again.’
Maud took up the manuscript and glanced over it with a contemptuous smile. Having observed her for a moment, Jasper threw himself back in the chair and said, as if casually:
‘I am told that Mr Dolomore is becoming a great friend of yours.’
The girl’s face changed. She drew herself up, and looked away towards the window.
‘I don’t know that he is a “great” friend.’
‘Still, he pays enough attention to you to excite remark.’
‘Whose remark?’
‘That of several people who go to Mrs Lane’s.’
‘I don’t know any reason for it,’ said Maud coldly.
‘Look here, Maud, you don’t mind if I give you a friendly warning?’