“Falk” shares with one other of my stories ("The Return” in the “Tales of Unrest” volume) the distinction of never having been serialized.  I think the copy was shown to the editor of some magazine who rejected it indignantly on the sole ground that “the girl never says anything.”  This is perfectly true.  From first to last Hermann’s niece utters no word in the tale—­and it is not because she is dumb, but for the simple reason that whenever she happens to come under the observation of the narrator she has either no occasion or is too profoundly moved to speak.  The editor, who obviously had read the story, might have perceived that for himself.  Apparently he did not, and I refrained from pointing out the impossibility to him because, since he did not venture to say that “the girl” did not live, I felt no concern at his indignation.

All the other stories were serialized.  The “Typhoon” appeared in the early numbers of the Pall Mall Magazine, then under the direction of the late Mr. Halkett.  It was on that occasion, too, that I saw for the first time my conceptions rendered by an artist in another medium.  Mr. Maurice Grieffenhagen knew how to combine in his illustrations the effect of his own most distinguished personal vision with an absolute fidelity to the inspiration of the writer.  “Amy Foster” was published in The Illustrated London News with a fine drawing of Amy on her day out giving tea to the children at her home, in a hat with a big feather.  “To-morrow” appeared first in the Pall Mall Magazine.  Of that story I will only say that it struck many people by its adaptability to the stage and that I was induced to dramatize it under the title of “One Day More”; up to the present my only effort in that direction.  I may also add that each of the four stories on their appearance in book form was picked out on various grounds as the “best of the lot” by different critics, who reviewed the volume with a warmth of appreciation and understanding, a sympathetic insight and a friendliness of expression for which I cannot be sufficiently grateful.

1919.  J. C.

TYPHOON

I

Captain MacWhirr, of the steamer Nan-Shan, had a physiognomy that, in the order of material appearances, was the exact counterpart of his mind:  it presented no marked characteristics of firmness or stupidity; it had no pronounced characteristics whatever; it was simply ordinary, irresponsive, and unruffled.

The only thing his aspect might have been said to suggest, at times, was bashfulness; because he would sit, in business offices ashore, sunburnt and smiling faintly, with downcast eyes.  When he raised them, they were perceived to be direct in their glance and of blue colour.  His hair was fair and extremely fine, clasping from temple to temple the bald dome of his skull in a clamp as of fluffy silk.  The hair of his face, on the contrary, carroty and flaming,