I pointed out to her that here was the paper and there the pen, and all a man had to do was to take up the pen, and it went on writing of its own accord.
"Then you don't peep into any book first of all?"
"You can see that I am provided with no tools of that sort."
"Well, now, sit down, and I'll sit down beside you and see how you write."
And then, not waiting for an invitation, she sat down at the end of my sofa, driving me into the dilemma of sitting down by the table, willy-nilly, likewise. I may mention that my hut was so narrow that the table reached from the door to the window.
"I can't write a word, though, at this moment," said I.
"Why? Because I'm here?"
"Naturally."
"Then read me what you have just written."
"There's a lot of it."