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- Мари Корелли
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The
chorus
of
eulogy
was
well-nigh
universal
;
I
was
the
'
genius
of
the
day
'
--
the
'
hope
of
the
future
generation
,
'
--
I
was
the
"
Book
of
the
Month
,
"
--
the
greatest
,
the
wittiest
,
most
versatile
,
most
brilliant
scribbling
pigmy
that
had
ever
honoured
a
pot
of
ink
by
using
it
!
Of
course
I
figured
as
McWhing
's
'
discovery
,
'
--
five
hundred
pounds
bestowed
on
his
mysterious
'
charity
'
had
so
sharpened
his
eyesight
that
he
had
perceived
me
shining
brightly
on
the
literary
horizon
before
anyone
else
had
done
so
.
The
press
followed
his
'
lead
'
obediently
--
for
though
the
press
--
the
English
press
at
least
--
is
distinctly
unbribable
,
the
owners
of
newspapers
are
not
insensible
to
the
advantages
of
largely
paying
advertisements
.
Moreover
,
when
Mr
McWhing
announced
me
as
his
'
find
'
in
the
oracular
style
which
distinguished
him
,
some
other
literary
gentlemen
came
forward
and
wrote
effective
articles
about
me
,
and
sent
me
their
compositions
carefully
marked
.
I
took
the
hint
--
wrote
at
once
to
thank
them
,
and
invited
them
to
dinner
.
They
came
,
and
feasted
royally
with
Rimânez
and
myself
;
--
(
one
of
them
wrote
an
'
Ode
'
to
me
afterwards
)
--
and
at
the
conclusion
of
the
revels
,
we
sent
two
of
the
'
oracles
'
home
,
considerably
overcome
by
champagne
,
in
a
carriage
with
Amiel
to
look
after
them
,
and
help
them
out
at
their
own
doors
.
And
my
'
boom
'
expanded
--
London
'
talked
'
as
I
had
said
it
should
;
the
growling
monster
metropolis
discussed
me
and
my
work
in
its
own
independent
and
peculiar
fashion
.
The
'
upper
ten
'
subscribed
to
the
circulating
libraries
,
and
these
admirable
institutions
made
a
two
or
three
hundred
copies
do
for
all
demands
,
by
the
simple
expedient
of
keeping
subscribers
waiting
five
or
six
weeks
till
they
grew
tired
of
asking
for
the
book
,
and
forgot
all
about
it
.
Apart
from
the
libraries
,
the
public
did
not
take
me
up
.
From
the
glowing
criticisms
that
appeared
in
all
the
papers
,
it
might
have
been
supposed
that
'
everybody
who
was
anybody
'
was
reading
my
'
wonderful
'
production
.
Such
however
was
not
the
case
.
People
spoke
of
me
as
'
the
great
millionaire
,
'
but
they
were
indifferent
to
the
bid
I
had
made
for
literary
fame
.
The
remark
they
usually
made
to
me
wherever
I
went
was
--
"
You
have
written
a
novel
,
have
n't
you
?
What
an
odd
thing
for
you
to
do
!
"
--
this
,
with
a
laugh
;
--
"
I
have
n't
read
it
--
I
've
so
little
time
--
I
must
ask
for
it
at
the
library
.
"
Of
course
a
great
many
never
did
ask
,
not
deeming
it
worth
their
while
;
and
I
whose
money
,
combined
with
the
resistless
influence
of
Rimânez
,
had
started
the
favourable
criticisms
that
flooded
the
press
,
found
out
that
the
majority
of
the
public
never
read
criticisms
at
all
.
Hence
,
my
anonymous
review
of
Mavis
Clare
's
book
made
no
effect
whatever
on
her
popularity
,
though
it
appeared
in
the
most
prominent
manner
.
It
was
a
sheer
waste
of
labour
--
for
everywhere
this
woman
author
was
still
looked
upon
as
a
creature
of
altogether
finer
clay
than
ordinary
,
and
still
her
book
was
eagerly
devoured
and
questioned
and
admired
;
and
still
it
sold
by
thousands
,
despite
a
lack
of
all
favourable
criticism
or
prominent
advertisement
.
No
one
guessed
that
I
had
written
what
I
am
now
perfectly
willing
to
admit
was
a
brutally
wanton
misrepresentation
of
her
work
--
no
one
,
except
Rimânez
.
The
magazine
in
which
it
appeared
was
a
notable
one
,
circulating
in
every
club
and
library
,
and
he
,
taking
it
up
casually
one
afternoon
,
turned
to
that
article
at
once
.
"
You
wrote
this
!
"
he
said
,
fixing
his
eyes
upon
me
--
"
It
must
have
been
a
great
relief
to
your
mind
!
"
I
said
nothing
.
He
read
on
in
silence
for
a
little
;
then
laying
down
the
magazine
looked
at
me
with
a
curiously
scrutinizing
expression
.
"
There
are
some
human
beings
so
constituted
,
"
he
said
,
"
that
if
they
had
been
with
Noah
in
the
ark
according
to
the
silly
old
legend
,
they
would
have
shot
the
dove
bearing
the
olive-leaf
,
directly
it
came
in
sight
over
the
waste
of
waters
.
You
are
of
that
type
Geoffrey
.
"
"
I
do
not
see
the
force
of
your
comparison
,
"
I
murmured
.
"
Do
you
not
?
Why
,
what
harm
has
this
Mavis
Clare
done
to
you
?
Your
positions
are
entirely
opposed
.
You
are
a
millionaire
;
she
is
a
hard-working
woman
dependent
on
her
literary
success
for
a
livelihood
,
and
you
,
rolling
in
wealth
do
your
best
to
deprive
her
of
the
means
of
existence
.
Does
this
redound
to
your
credit
?
She
has
won
her
fame
by
her
own
brain
and
energy
alone
--
and
even
if
you
dislike
her
book
need
you
abuse
her
personally
as
you
have
done
in
this
article
?
You
do
not
know
her
;
you
have
never
seen
her
,
...
"
