"But it will take you a long time to write, won't it?" "Oh, about six weeks. It will take me no time, when I am once well into the story. You know how I do travel, when I once have got my grip. It is half mapped out in my head already. Every line of it will practically be written before I begin. There will only be the pen work to do." Putting both his hands upon her shoulders, he stooped his eager face to hers. "Philippa, you see if I don't do the trick this time." "Geoffrey, if I were you, I wouldn't be so sanguine. You know how disappointed you have been before." Thrusting his hands into his trousers pockets, he began to stride about the room. "Yes, I know that is so, and I won't be sanguine. But, somehow, I feel quite certain that, this time, I have the thing--however, I'll say nothing. But don't you tell me not to be sanguine, or you'll put me clean off--you know how funny I am, that way. You keep the children quiet, and don't let me hear a sound, and you'll see--well, you'll see what you will see." He laughed, and she laughed too. "Don't you laugh at me! If I don't get the first prize, it'll be hard lines if I don't get one of the three--even a hundred pounds is not to be despised." "But, Geoffrey, what will become of your other work during those six weeks? And you know, when you have finished a long story, you never feel inclined to start again at once." "Don't talk to me like that, or you'll drive me off my head. Philippa, I've set my heart upon doing this thing--do let me do it. You don't want me to be a penny-a-liner all my life, sweetheart, do you? By the way, I saw _The Leviathan_ at the library. There's a first-rate story in it, by a new man--Philip Ayre. I know good work when I see it, and that is good work. And, do you know, it might almost be a story about us--you should read it. It is called 'Two in One.'" Wandering hither and thither about the room, he did not notice that his wife's face had suddenly been bent low over her mending, and that her cheeks had paled. "Another thing, I met old Briggs." Mr. Briggs was their landlord. "I assure you, when I saw him coming, I was half inclined, Dick Swiveller fashion, to dodge down some side street. I made sure he was going to dun, and that I should have to shuffle. But, to my surprise, he was quite friendly. He asked how you were, and how the children were, and never said a word about the rent. So, of course, I said nothing either. I'm just going for a stroll, and a smoke, and a think. Mind, when you go to the library, that you don't forget to read that thing in _The Leviathan_."