Gender Readings. Top Ten. Ренц Т.Г - 58 стр.

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–58–
in five years? Are you prepared for the years of effort, “the long
defeat of doing nothing well”? As the years pass writing will not
become any easier, the daily effort will grow harder to endure, those
“powers of observation” will become enfeebled, you will be judged,
when you reach your forties, by performance and not by promise.
“My next novel is going to be about St Tropez.”
“I didn’t know you’d ever been there.”
“I haven’t. A fresh eye’s terribly important. I thought we might
settle down there for six months.”
“There wouldn’t be much left of the advance by that time.”
“The advance is only an advance. I get fifteen per cent after five
thousand copies and twenty per cent after ten. And of course another
advance will be due, darling — when the next book’s finished. A bigger
one if The Chelsea Set sells well.”
“Suppose it doesn’t.”
“Mr Dwight says it will. He ought to know.”
“My uncle would start me at twelve hundred.”
“But darling, how could you come then to St. Tropez?”
“Perhaps we’d do better to marry when you come back.”
She said harshly, “I mightn’t come back if The Chelsea Set sells
enough.”
“Oh.”
She looked at me and the party of Japanese gentlemen. She
finished her wine. She said, “Is this a quarrel?”
“No.”
“I’ve got the title for the next book — The Àãurå Blue.
“I thought azure was blue.”
She looked at him with disappointment. “You don’t really want
to be married to a novelist, do you?”
“You aren’t one yet.”
“I was born one — Mr Dwight says. My powers of observation...”
“Yes. You told me that, but, dear, couldn’t you observe a bit
nearer home? Here in London.”
“I’ve done that in The Chelsea Set. I don’t want to repeat myself.”
The bill had been lying beside them for some time now. He took
out his wallet to pay, but she snatched the paper out of his reach. She
said, “This is my celebration.”
“What of?”
in five years? Are you prepared for the years of effort, “the long
defeat of doing nothing well”? As the years pass writing will not
become any easier, the daily effort will grow harder to endure, those
“powers of observation” will become enfeebled, you will be judged,
when you reach your forties, by performance and not by promise.
      “My next novel is going to be about St Tropez.”
      “I didn’t know you’d ever been there.”
      “I haven’t. A fresh eye’s terribly important. I thought we might
settle down there for six months.”
      “There wouldn’t be much left of the advance by that time.”
      “The advance is only an advance. I get fifteen per cent after five
thousand copies and twenty per cent after ten. And of course another
advance will be due, darling — when the next book’s finished. A bigger
one if The Chelsea Set sells well.”
      “Suppose it doesn’t.”
      “Mr Dwight says it will. He ought to know.”
      “My uncle would start me at twelve hundred.”
      “But darling, how could you come then to St. Tropez?”
      “Perhaps we’d do better to marry when you come back.”
      She said harshly, “I mightn’t come back if The Chelsea Set sells
enough.”
      “Oh.”
      She looked at me and the party of Japanese gentlemen. She
finished her wine. She said, “Is this a quarrel?”
      “No.”
      “I’ve got the title for the next book — The Àãurå Blue.”
      “I thought azure was blue.”
      She looked at him with disappointment. “You don’t really want
to be married to a novelist, do you?”
      “You aren’t one yet.”
      “I was born one — Mr Dwight says. My powers of observation...”
      “Yes. You told me that, but, dear, couldn’t you observe a bit
nearer home? Here in London.”
      “I’ve done that in The Chelsea Set. I don’t want to repeat myself.”
      The bill had been lying beside them for some time now. He took
out his wallet to pay, but she snatched the paper out of his reach. She
said, “This is my celebration.”
      “What of?”


                                 – 58 –