E. Nesbit

“ When all a woman’s thoughts, day and night for a year, have been given to one man, she is not afraid of him; no, not even if he be what Sybil for one moment feared that this man was. He read the fear in her eyes. ”

“ The drifted white folds across her breast stirred to her quickened breath.
“If you loved me, Sybil, I could do something great!” said he.
“But I don’t,” she said—“at any rate, not now; and I’ve told you so a dozen times. My dear Rupert, the man who needs a woman to save him isn’t worth the saving.”
“What would you call a big thing?” he asked. “Must I conquer an empire for you, or start a new religion? Or shall I merely get the Victoria Cross, or become Prime Minister?”
“Don’t sneer,” said she; “it doesn’t become you at all. You’ve no idea how horrid you look when you’re sneering. ”

“ I wrote the book in four months; and every night, when I went to sleep, I wondered whether I should ever wake to go on with the book. But I did wake, and then I used to leap up and thank God, and set to work; and I’ve done it. The book will live—every one says it will. I shan’t have lived for nothing.”
“Rupert,” she said, “dear Rupert!”
“Thank you,” he said forlornly; “you’re very kind.” And he drew his limp hand from hers, and leaned his elbows on the grass and his chin on his hands.
“Oh, Rupert, why didn’t you write and tell me?” ”

“ I’ve the experience of twenty-eight and a half—I suppose the first little bit doesn’t count. If I’d had time, I meant to write another book, just to show exactly what a man feels when he knows he’s only got a year to live, and nothing done—nothing done. ”

“ Neither partner was visible. The senior clerk did not know the address of the author of “Work While it is Yet Day,” nor the name of him; and it was abundantly evident that even if he had known, he would not have told.
Sybil’s prettiness and her charm so wrought upon this dry-as-dust person, however, that he volunteered the address of the literary agent through whom the book had been purchased. And Sybil found him on a first floor in one of those imposing new buildings in Arundel Street. ”

“ Are you going to govern the Fortunate Islands?”
“I am, indeed—or rather, to be accurate, I am going to deputy-govern them—I mean, father is—for a year.”
“A whole year!” he said, looking down at her fan. “What will London do without you?”
“London will do excellently,” she answered—“and that’s my pet fan, and it’s not used to being tied into knots.” She took it from him. ”

“ And he loves her the more for her folly.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1928.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1924, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 98 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”