Derek jocosely added fifty cents to the sum I asked—"for postage stamps"— ... for one year, week in, week out, without a letter from me except those indicating changes of address, without sending me a word of advice, criticism, or condemnation, no matter what I got into ... Derek sent me that weekly stipend of seven dollars and fifty cents!...
I settled down to consecutive literary work.
Lyrics I could write under any condition. They came to me so deeply from the subconscious that at times they almost seemed like spirit-control, which, at times, I am sure they had been, till I set the force of my will against them. For I was resolved that what I wrote should be an emanation from my own personality, not from dead and gone poets who used me for a medium.
But when it came to long and consecutive effort, the continual petty worry of actual penury sapped my mind so that I lacked the power of application....
With Derek's remittances this obstacle was removed....
I had soon completed the first act of my apostolic play....
And then I plunged into a scrape, together with my fellow members of the press or "Scoop Club," as it was more popularly known, which halted my work mid-way....
Our common adventure derived its inception from a casual remark of Jack Travers', at one of our meetings....