"The prospect of a six months' cruise among the Greek Islands kindled
my imagination, and while listening to Gertrude I was often in spirit
far away, landing perchance at Cyprus, exalted at the prospect of
visiting the Cyprians' temple; or perchance standing with Gertrude on
the deck of the yacht watching the stars growing dim in the east; the
sailors would be singing at the time, and out of the ashen stillness a
wind would come, and again we would hear the ripple of the water
parting as the jib filled and drew the schooner eastward. I imagined
how half an hour later an island would appear against the golden sky,
a lofty island lined with white buildings, perchance ancient fanes.
'What a delicious book my six months with Gertrude will be!' I said as
I walked home, and the title of the book was an inspiration, 'An
Unsentimental Journey.' It was Gertrude's own words that had suggested
it. Had she not said that she did not mind my making love to her, but
she did not like rights? She couldn't complain if I wrote a book, and
I imagined how every evening when the lover left her, the chronicler
would sit for an hour recording his impressions. Very often he would
continue writing until the pencil dropped from his hand, till he fell
asleep in the chair.
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