...I
just dreamed until I fell asleep. I'd start for England a week later--for
England!"
Goose flesh made Alexina's delicate body feel like a cold nutmeg grater.
"England?"
"Yes!...ah...you see, it's the only place where literary recognition counts
for anything."
"Oh? I rather thought the British authors looked upon Uncle Sam in the
light of a fairy godfather. Our recognition counts for a good deal, I
should say. I never thought you were snobbish."
"I'm not really. Only London is a sort of Mecca for writers just as Paris
is for women of fashion....Just fancy being feted in London after you had
written a successful novel."
"I'd far rather receive recognition in my own country," said Alexina,
elevating her classic American profile. She was not feeling in the least
patriotic, however. "You'd see your friend Gathbroke, though. That would be
jolly. Do take the money, Gora, and don't be a goose."
"That subject's closed. Don't let me keep you. James told me that Maria is
having a luncheon, and I suppose that means you are going out. I'll rest
here for awhile if you don't mind."
CHAPTER XVI
I
Mortimer went off that night and got drunk. It was the first time in his
life and possibly his last, but he made a thorough job of it. He took the
precaution to telephone to the house that he was going out of town, but
when he returned two days later he experienced a distinct pleasure in
telling Alexina what he had done.
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