Скорбь сатаны

Chapter 12

           Isaidnothing,feelingatrifleheatedintemper,thoughIcouldnothavequiteexplainedwhy.

           "Onebeginstowonder,"—saidLuciotheninhissoftsmoothaccents—"whenoneisthedescendantofagoodEnglishcountyfamily—adistinctcauseforpride!—andmoreoverhasthestillmoresubstantialfactofalargefortunetosupportthathighlineage,whyoneshouldtroubletofightformerelyliteraryhonours!Youarefartoomodestinyourambitions,Tempest!—high-seatedasyouareuponbank-notesandbullion,withallthegloryofeffulgentcountychroniclesbehindyou,youstillstooptoclutchthelaurel!Fie,mydearfellow!Youdegradeyourselfbythisdesiretojointhecompanyoftheimmortals!"

           Hissatiricaltonewasnotlostuponthecompany;andI,whosawthatinhisownspecialwayhewasdefendingtheclaimsofliteratureagainstthoseofmereplaceandmoney,feltsoothedandgrateful.TheEarllookedatrifleannoyed.

           "That’sallveryfine,"hesaid—"Butyouseeitisn’tasifMrTempestweredrivenbynecessitytowriteforhisliving"—

           "Onemayloveworkforthework’ssakewithoutanyactualnecessityfordoingit,"—Iinterposed—"Forexample—thisMavisClareyouspeakof—isshe—awoman—drivenbynecessity?"

           "MavisClarehasn’tapennyintheworldthatshedoesnotearn,"—saidLordEltongruffly—"Isupposethatifshedidnotwriteshewouldstarve."

           DianaChesneylaughed.

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