"And what did he say to them?"
"Come! I'm not going to be cross-questioned," said Fleda, laughing. "He did not prevent my sending them."
"And if they take them, do you expect they will give anything for them the magazine people?"
"I am sure, if they don't, they shall have no more; that is my only possible inducement to let them be printed. For my own pleasure, I would far rather not."
"Did you sign with your own name?"
"My own name! Yes, and desired it to be printed in large capitals. What are you thinking of? No! I hope you'll forgive me, but I signed myself what our friend the doctor calls 'Yugh.' "
"I'll forgive you, if you'll do one thing for me."
"What?"
"Show me all you have in your portfolio Do, Fleda! to- night, by the light of the pitch-pine knots. Why shouldn't you give me that pleasure? And, besides, you know Molière had an old woman?"
"Well," said Fleda, with a face that to Hugh was extremely satisfactory, "we'll see I suppose you might as well read my productions in manuscript as in print. But they are in a terribly scratchy condition they go sometimes for weeks in my head before I find time to put them down you may guess, polishing is pretty well out of the question. Suppose we try to get home with these baskets."