"You never work at night?" I asked.
"Indeed no! I never turn the ordinances of Nature upside down, as I am sure I should get the worst of it if I made such an attempt. The night is for sleep, and I use it thankfully for that blessed purpose."
"Some authors can only write at night though," I said.
"Then you may be sure they only produce blurred pictures and indistinct characterization," said Mavis. "Some I know there are, who invite inspiration through gin, or opium, as well as through the midnight influences, but I do not believe in such methods. Morning and a freshly rested brain are required for literary labour,—that is, if one wants to write a book that will last for more than one 'season.'"
She accompanied us to the gate, and stood under the porch, her big dog beside her and the ro
