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fear and trembling, and I said to myself, oh this is awful, I know it's terrible.” He felt just as I did, you know. It was going to be awful, it's dreadful, Frances has never written like this before, she can't write anything, she says she can't, she says it's awful and I know it is.

He said, “I took the magazine and hurried back to the end of the porch and drew up another chair to screen me from the boarders, and I read it. And it is beautiful. You've done it, you've hit it--it's just great, it's fine, it's all right.”

I felt very much easier then, but even so, I was awfully reluctant. I came up to New York and saw them just before the publishing date. I forget when it was, the end of October I think. I saw the Viking people, and of course they had a little private cocktail party, just the staff. They wring your hand and they say, “How wonderful,” and so forth. You don't know whether to believe them. They were terrified about what the reviews were going to be. Oh, well, they didn't know what they were going to be. That's the great agony. The fellows that are doing the reviewing have done their reviews, all right. Their reviews are going to appear. If the book comes out on a Friday or Saturday, you see, the reviews are going to appear in the Sunday papers or the next issue of the Saturday Review of Literature and the