She suddenly fathomed my thoughts: "You write," she affirmed.

I asked how she knew, wondered what she had read of mine--there was so little.
"Are you a popular author ?" she asked.
"Alas, no!" I answered.

"You must know that." "You would like to be ?" "We should all of us like," I answered; "though it is true some of us protest that we aim for higher things." "I see," she said, musingly.

As far as I could tell she was coming to some decision.

With an instinctive dislike to any such proceeding as regarded myself, I tried to cut across her unknown thoughts.
"But, really--" I said, "I am quite a commonplace topic.