Page:The Spoils of Poynton (London, William Heinemann, 1897).djvu/321

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In One Volume, price 6s.


The Times.—'Miss Dixon shows herself no ineffective satirist of the shams and snobbishness of society.'

The Academy.—'No one who reads The Story of a Modern Woman will be likely to gainsay the excellence of its writing, and the genuine talent shown by Miss Dixon.'

The Pall Mall Gazette.—'A subtle study, written by a woman, about a woman, and from the point of view of a distinctly clever and modern woman herself. . . . Miss Dixon has scored a great success in the treatment of her novel.'

Vanity Fair.—'The main thread of the story is powerful and pathetic; but there are lighter touches, wit and humour, and here and there what seem like shadows of people we have seen and known. ... In a word, a book to buy, to read, and to enjoy.'

Black and White.—'The social sketches, with which this little story of modern, literary, fashionable, and Bohemian London is full, are very cleverly touched in.'

The Graphic.—'Miss Ella Hepworth Dixon has inherited no small share of her father's literary gifts, and she adds to it a faculty of observation, and a constructive and narrative skill, which are of considerable promise.'

The National Observer.—'She writes well, and shows not a little power of drawing character, and even of constructing a story.'

The Sketch.—'Miss Dixon's style excels in delicate vignettes, full of suggestion, and marked, above all, by that artistic restraint which is such an agreeable contrast to the fluency of the average woman-novel. '

St. James's Gazette.—'Miss Hepworth Dixon knows how to write. . . . She can say what she wants to say in a sound, clear style, which (especially in the descriptive passages) is occasionally very felicitous and expressive. Altogether, A Modern Woman is a work which will better repay reading than most of the novels of the season.'

Illustrated London News.—'A story of which so much can truthfully be said is a contribution to art as well as to the circulating library, a conjunction which, in these days of British fiction, is surprising.'


London: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford Street, W.C.