Undoubtedly, she was in a very low frame
of mind to-day. She, as well as Poppy, had her low fit on, and she
greatly trembled for the result of the coming interview. Since that
pathetic little last speech of Poppy's about her broken boots Jasmine
had quite forgotten how sorely she needed money for herself. Her one
and only desire just now was to restore Poppy's money.
"I must do it," she said to herself; "I must do it, and I will. I have
made up my mind, and I really need not be so frightened. After all,
Poppy and Daisy are both quite sure that I am a genius. Daisy says
that I have got the face of a genius, and Poppy was in such great,
great delight at my story. It is not likely that they would both be
wrong, and Poppy is a person of great discernment. I must cheer up and
believe what they told me. I daresay Poppy is right, and London is
half-flooded with my story. Ah, here I am at the entrance of the court
where the editor of _The Joy-bell_ lives. How funny it is to be here
all alone. I really feel quite like a heroine. Now I am at the
office--how queer, how very queer--I do not see any _Joy-bells_
pressed up against the window. No, not a single one; there are lots of
other books and papers, but no _Joy-bells_.
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