"I can't say it altogether suits my taste," I answered.
"Do you think she begins to tire?"
"Oh, she never tires; don't be the least afraid of that!"
"It's the very thing I wish; but there's a hill coming."
"She likes hills; and at the other side, when we begin to descend, you'll see her pace. I'm very proud of the mare's speed."
"It seems better than her temper; but about the novel?" I enquired.
"I shall publish in a fortnight," answered Jack.
"A whole novel? Three volumes?"
"Six, if you like—or a dozen. I'm not at all particular."
"But on what subject?"