s Louis Philippe, author of "Bubu de Montparnasse," and other
novels which have a genuine reputation among the chosen people who know
the difference between literature and its counterfeit. This circle of
friends used to meet at Philippe's flat. It included a number of
talented writers, among whom I should mention MM. Iehl (the author of
"Cauet"), Francis Jourdain, Paul Fargue, Larbaud, Chanvin, Marcel Ray,
and Regis Gignoux (the literary and dramatic critic). Marguerite
Audoux was not introduced as a literary prodigy. Nobody, indeed, was
aware that she wrote. She came on her merits as an individuality, and
she took her place beside several other women who, like herself, had no
literary pretensions. I am told by one of the intimates of the
fellowship that the impression she made was profound. And the fact is
indubitable that her friends are at least as enthusiastic about her
individuality as about this book which she has written. She was a
little over thirty, and very pretty, with an agreeable voice. The
sobriety of her charm, the clear depth of her emotional faculty, and
the breadth of her gentle interest in human nature handsomely conquered
the entire fellowship. The working sempstress was sincerely esteemed
by some of the brightest masculine intellects in Paris.

This admiring appreciation naturally encouraged her to speak a little
of herself. And one evening she confessed that she, too, had been
trying to write. On another evening she brought some sheets of
manuscript--the draft of the early chapters of "Marie Claire"--and read
them aloud. She read, I am told, very well. The reception was
enthusiastic. One can imagine the ecstatic fervour of these young men,
startled by the apparition of such a shining talent. She must continue
the writing of her book, but in the mean time she must produce some
short stories and sketches for the daily papers! Her gift must be
presented to the public instantly! She followed the advice thus
urgently offered, and several members of the circle (in particular,
Regis Gignoux and Marcel Ray) gave themselves up to the business of
placing the stories and sketches; Marcel Ray devoted whole days to the
effort, obtaining special leave from his own duties in order to do so.
In the result several stories and sketches appeared in the _Matin,
Paris Journal_ (respectively the least and the most literary of Paris
morning papers), and other organs. These stories and sketches, by the