CHAPTER 11Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust, Whatever fades, but fading pleasures brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all they might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be; Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light That doth both shine and give us sight to see.
—Sir Philip Sidney
Town seemed remarkably empty and uninteresting. Yet a lot of things were going on. Harriet saw her agent and publisher, signed a contract for serial rights, heard the inner history of the quarrel between Lord Gobbersleigh the newspaper proprietor and Mr. Adrian Cloot the reviewer, entered warmly into the triangular dispute raging among Gargantua Colour-Talkies Ltd., Mr. Garrick Drury the actor and Mr
