When it had closed, she went back into the
study for a few minutes before rejoining her mother.
CHAPTER IX. INVITA MINERVA
After all, there came a day when Edwin Reardon found himself
regularly at work once more, ticking off his stipulated quantum
of manuscript each four-and-twenty hours. He wrote a very small
hand; sixty written slips of the kind of paper he habitually used
would represent--thanks to the astonishing system which prevails
in such matters: large type, wide spacing, frequency of blank
pages--a passable three-hundred-page volume. On an average he
could write four such slips a day; so here we have fifteen days
for the volume, and forty-five for the completed book.
Forty-five days; an eternity in the looking forward. Yet the
calculation gave him a faint-hearted encouragement. At that rate
he might have his book sold by Christmas. It would certainly not
bring him a hundred pounds; seventy-five perhaps. But even that
small sum would enable him to pay the quarter's rent, and then
give him a short time, if only two or three weeks, of mental
rest.
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