The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (1.1894)

i6o

The Dedication

publisher make haste and bring it out ? I believe he is keeping it
back on purpose. What dreadful creatures they are ! At first—
squabble, squabble, squabble ; squabble about terms, squabble about
this, another squabble about that, and then, when everything is
finally arranged, delay, delay, delay. " You must wait for the
Publishing season." As though a book were a young lady whose
future might be seriously jeopardised if it made its dehnt at an
unfashionable time.

[The door opens, and Harold bursts into the rooml]

Harold. It's out, it's out ; out at last.

Lucy. What, the book ! Really 1 Where is it ? Do show it
to me.

Harold. Do you think you deserve it!

Lucy. Oh ! don't tautalise me. Have you seen it ? What is
it like !

Harold, It is printed, and very much like other books.
Lucy. You are horrid. I believe you have it with you. Have
you l

Harold. And what if I say yes ?
Lucy. You have. Do let me see it.
Harold. And will you be very good if I do I
Lucy. I'll be angelic.

Harold. Then on that condition only—There ! take it gently.
[Lucy snatchcs it, and cuts the string.J I thought you never cut
string ?

Lucy. There is never a never that hasn't an exception,
Hamid. Not a woman's, certainly.

Lucy. Oh ! how nice it looks ! And to think that it is yours,
really and truly yours. " Grace : a Sketch. By Harold Sek-
bourne," It's delicious ! [Ho/ding the book, dances rnund the room.']

Hamid.