Do, Mr.Voltaire; we shall be disappointed if you don't." "I cannot resist the ladies," he said, with a smile, "but you must not be frightened at my story.

For, remember, what I tell you is true.

I do not weave this out of my own brain like your average English novelist has to do." I fancied this was directed at me.

Not that I deserved the appellation.
I had written only one novel, and that was a very poor one.

Still I fancied I saw his light glittering eyes turned in my direction.
"I must make a sort of apology, too," he went on.