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The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Novel, Complete, by Edward Bulwer-Lytton This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: My Novel, Complete Author: Edward Bulwer-Lytton Release Date: March 16, 2009 [EBook #7714] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY NOVEL, COMPLETE *** Produced by David Widger "MY NOVEL." By Edward Bulwer-Lytton BOOK FIRST. INITIAL CHAPTER --SHOWING HOW MY NOVEL CAME TO BE WRITTEN. Scene, the hall in UNCLE ROLAND'S tower; time, night; season, winter. MR. CAXTON is seated before a great geographical globe, which he is turning round leisurely, and "for his own recreation," as, according to Sir Thomas Browne, a philosopher should turn round the orb of which that globe professes to be the representation and effigies. My mother having just adorned a very small frock with a very smart braid, is holding it out at arm's length, the more to admire the effect. Blanche, though leaning both hands on my mother's shoulder, is not regarding the frock, but glances towards PISISTRATUS, who, seated near the fire, leaning back in the chair, and his head bent over his breast, seems in a very bad humour. Uncle Roland, who has become a great novel-reader, is deep in the mysteries of some fascinating Third Volume. Mr. Squills has brought the "Times" in his pocket for his own special profit and delectation, and is now bending his brows over "the state of the money market," in great doubt whether railway shares can possibly fall lower,--for Mr. Squills, happy man! has large savings, and does not know what to do with his money, or, to use his own phrase, "how to buy in at the cheapest in order to sell out at the dearest." MR. CAXTON (musingly).--"It must have been a monstrous long journey. It would be somewhere hereabouts, I take it, that they would split off." MY MOTHER (mechanically, and in order to show Austin that she paid him the compliment of attending to his remarks).--"Who split off, my dear?" "Bless me, Kitty," said my father, in great admiration, "you ask just the question which it is most difficult to answer. An ingenious speculator on races contends that the Danes, whose descendants mak
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