Mrs. Ukridge nursed Edwin (now moving in society
once more, and in his right mind), I lit my pipe and walked out across
the fields through the cool summer night till I came to the hedge that
shut off the Derrick's grounds. Not the hedge through which I had made
my first entrance, but another, lower, and nearer the house. Standing
there under the shade of a tree I could see the lighted windows of the
drawing-room. Generally there was music inside, and, the windows being
opened on account of the warmth of the night, I was able to make myself
a little more miserable by hearing Phyllis sing. It deepened the
feeling of banishment.

I shall never forget those furtive visits. The intense stillness of the
night, broken by an occasional rustling in the grass or the hedge; the
smell of the flowers in the garden beyond; the distant drone of the sea.

"God makes sech nights, all white and still,
Fur'z you to look and listen."

Another day had generally begun before I moved from my hiding-place,
and started for home, surprised to find my limbs stiff and my clothes
bathed with dew.

CHAPTER X

I ENLIST THE SERVICES OF A MINION

It would be interesting to know to what extent the work of authors is
influenced by their private affairs. If life is flowing smoothly, are
the novels they write in that period of content coloured with optimism?
And if things are running crosswise, do they work off the resultant
gloom on their faithful public? If, for instance, Mr. W. W. Jacobs had
toothache, would he write like Hugh Walpole? If Maxim Gorky were
invited to lunch by Trotsky, to meet Lenin, would he sit down and dash
off a trifle in the vein of Stephen Leacock? Probably the eminent have
the power of detaching their writing self from their living, work-a-day
self; but, for my own part, the frame of mind in which I now found
myself had a disastrous effect on my novel that was to be. I had
designed it as a light comedy effort. Here and there a page or two to
steady the reader and show him what I could do in the way of pathos if
I cared to try; but in the main a thing of sunshine and laughter. But
now great slabs of gloom began to work themselves into the scheme of
it. A magnificent despondency became its keynote. It would not do. I
felt that I must make a resolute effort to shake off my depression.
More than ever the need of conciliating the professor was borne in upon
me. Day and night I spurred my brain to think of some suitable