way, were republished in a small volume, some time before "Marie
Claire," and attracted no general attention whatever.

Meanwhile the more important work proceeded, slowly; and was at length
finished. Its composition stretched over a period of six years.
Marguerite Audoux never hurried nor fatigued herself, and though she
re-wrote many passages several times, she did not carry this revision
to the meticulous excess which is the ruin of so many ardent literary
beginners in France. The trite phrase, "written with blood and tears,"
does not in the least apply here. A native wisdom has invariably saved
Marguerite Audoux from the dangerous extreme. In his preface to the
original French edition, M. Octave Mirbeau appositely points out that
Philippe and her other friends abstained from giving purely literary
advice to the authoress as her book grew and was read aloud. With the
insight of artists they perceived that hers was a talent which must be
strictly let alone. But Parisian rumour has alleged, not merely that
she was advised, but that she was actually helped in the writing by her
admirers. The rumour is worse than false--it is silly. Every
paragraph of the work bears the unmistakable and inimitable work of one
individuality. And among the friends of Marguerite Audoux, even the
most gifted, there is none who could possibly have composed any of the
passages which have been singled out as being beyond the accomplishment
of a working sempstress. The whole work and every part of the work is
the unassisted and untutored production of its author. This statement
cannot be too clearly and positively made. Doubtless the spelling was
drastically corrected by the proof-readers; but to have one's spelling
drastically corrected is an experience which occurs to nearly all women
writers, and to a few male writers.

The book completed, the question of its proper flotation arose. I use
the word "flotation" with intent. Although Marguerite Audoux had
originally no thought of publishing, her friends were firmly bent not
simply on publishing, but on publishing with the maximum of eclat. A
great name was necessary to the success of the enterprise, a name
which, while keeping the sympathy of the artists, would impose itself
on the crowd. Francis Jourdain knew Octave Mirbeau. And Octave
Mirbeau, by virtue of his feverish artistic and moral enthusiasms, of
his notorious generosity, and of his enormous vogue, was obviously the
he