'That it most certainly is not. You're a workwoman, darling, to your boot-heels, and I respect you for that.'
'You don't laugh at me behind my back?'
'No, dear. You see, you are more to me than any one else. Put this cloak thing round you, or you'll get chilled.'
Maisie wrapped herself in the soft marten skins, turning the gray kangaroo fur to the outside.
'This is delicious,' she said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully along the fur. 'Well? Why am I wrong in trying to get a little success?'
'Just because you try. Don't you understand, darling? Good work has nothing to do with—doesn't belong to—the person who does it. It's put into him or her from outside.'
'But how does that affect——'
'Wait a minute. All we can do is to learn how to do our work, to be masters of our materials instead of servants, and never to be afraid of anything.'
'I understand that.'
'Everything else comes from outside ourselves. Very good. If we sit down quietly to work out notions that are sent to us, we may or we may not do something that isn't bad. A great deal depends on being master of the bricks and mortar of the
