Curiously, some two-and-a-half years and two novels later, my experiment in what the Americans term “downshifting” has turned my tired excuse into an absolute reality.
I had not very much to say. It was a record of hard work and of little adventure; of experiments in this direction and in that; of the gradual acquisition of the knowledge of books and of men.
Nor, despite St Paul's aphorism, was the lure of lucre during the experiment (as opposed to the effect of thinking about it as a result of being primed) necessary as a corrupting influence.