“Do? I write, naturally. What else should I do? Is it not that I live by? For the moment, I am working at a great drama, ‘The Sign of the Cross.’ Theme taken from the Middle Ages.” “By Jove!” exclaimed “Missy,” seriously. “Well, if you succeed with that, why....” “I have no great anxiety on that score,” I replied. “In eight days’ time or so, I think you and all the folks will have heard a little more of me.” With that I left him. When I got home I applied at once to my landlady, and requested a lamp. It was of the utmost importance to me to get this lamp; I would not go to bed tonight; my drama was raging in my brain, and I hoped so surely to be able to write a good portion of it before morning. I put forward my request very humbly to her, as I had noticed that she made a dissatisfied face on my re-entering the sitting-room. I said that I had almost completed a remarkable drama, only a couple of scenes were wanting; and I hinted that it might be produced in some theatre or another, in no time. If she would only just render me this great service now.... But madam had no lamp. She considered a bit, but could not call to mind that she had a lamp in any place. If I liked to wait until twelve o’clock, I might perhaps get the kitchen lamp. Why didn’t I buy myself a candle? I held my tongue. I hadn’t a farthing to buy a candle, and knew that right well. Of course I was foiled again! The servant-girl sat inside with us--simply sat in the sitting-room, and was not in the kitchen at all; so that the lamp up there was not even lit. And I stood and thought over this, but said no more. Suddenly the girl remarked to me: “I thought I saw you come out of the palace a while ago; were you at a dinner party?” and she laughed loudly at this jest.