Excerpt: "e;Out in the London Square a dismal November fog mingled with the gathering twilight, and blotted out the trees and the opposite houses. Mrs. Trelawney's drawing-room, where the fire burnt clear, and the softly shaded lamps shed a subdued light, was very pleasant by contrast. Mrs. Trelawney herself sat on one side of the fire in a low seat, beside which a small table was drawn up, covered with multi-colored silks for the embroidery she held. "e;Are you very busy just now?"e; she asked presently of a man who sat leaning back in an arm-chair opposite her on the other side of the table. "e;Busy? Stevens is never busy,"e; her husband assured her. He rose lazily from the sofa as he spoke, and sat down on the arm of his wife's chair. "e;He sits in his den before a good fire, with a novel in one hand, and the editorial cigar in the other; and that's what he calls hard work!"e; Stevens groaned. "e;May you never do anything harder! You don't mention the kind of novel over which I'm usually to be found gnashing my teeth!"e; "e;Poor man! as bored and savage as all that?"e; Mrs. Trelawney asked, smiling. "e;But you get a good one sometimes, of course."e; "e;Once in three months, perhaps. Oh! there are mitigations of misery, I allow. Last night, for instance, I reviewed a book that interested me. It was good; very good,"e; he added, meditatively."e;

Excerpt: "e;Out in the London Square a dismal November fog mingled with the gathering twilight, and blotted out the trees and the opposite houses. Mrs. Trelawney's drawing-room, where the fire burnt clear, and the softly shaded lamps shed a subdued light, was very pleasant by contrast. Mrs. Trelawney herself sat on one side of the fire in a low seat, beside which a small table was drawn up, covered with multi-colored silks for the embroidery she held. "e;Are you very busy just now?"e; she asked presently of a man who sat leaning back in an arm-chair opposite her on the other side of the table. "e;Busy? Stevens is never busy,"e; her husband assured her. He rose lazily from the sofa as he spoke, and sat down on the arm of his wife's chair. "e;He sits in his den before a good fire, with a novel in one hand, and the editorial cigar in the other; and that's what he calls hard work!"e; Stevens groaned. "e;May you never do anything harder! You don't mention the kind of novel over which I'm usually to be found gnashing my teeth!"e; "e;Poor man! as bored and savage as all that?"e; Mrs. Trelawney asked, smiling. "e;But you get a good one sometimes, of course."e; "e;Once in three months, perhaps. Oh! there are mitigations of misery, I allow. Last night, for instance, I reviewed a book that interested me. It was good; very good,"e; he added, meditatively."e;