"I hope they'll like it, the people who review it," she answered. "Don't let's go in just yet. Let's walk along the Spaniards' Road a little while!"
They walked up Heath Street, and when they came to the railings above The Vale of Health, they stood against them and looked towards London. A blue haze had settled over the city and the trees were like long hanging veils through which little, yellow lights from the street-lamps shone like tiny jewels. The air was full of drowsy sounds, as if the earth were happily tired and were resting for a while before the pleasures of the night began.
"Would you like to go back to your club, Eleanor?" John said.
"Silly old silly!" she replied, pinching his arm.
"I feel as if I want to tell everybody that you've written a book and a play," she said, as they walked on. "It doesn't seem right that all these people don't know about you!"
He went to Cottenham on the next day, carrying with him an early edition of the Evening Herald in which Hinde had printed a very flattering review of The Enchanted Lover. Eleanor had been puzzled by the promptness with which the review had appeared until John explained to her that review copies of books were sent to the newspapers a week or a fortnight before the date of publication.
"It's a very good review," she said. "I thought he didn't like the book much!"
"So did I. I hope he isn't just writing like this to please me. I don't want insincere reviews!..."
"I expect," said Eleanor, "he didn't tell you how much, he really liked it!"
"Hmmm! Perhaps that's it," John replied.