Onwards and inwards

In amazing scenes earlier today, the marquise was observed to be seated at her computer writing happily for a number of hours today. 'We have cautious hops of some kind of writing breakthrough,' said the marquis, when questioned about this. 'She's been faffing about complaining that this book hates her and she's stuck for quite long enough, and it was time for her just to get on with it.' Rumours that this excess of writing was brought on by the sight yesterday of a Fitzbillies lemon cake in the window of that same distinguished Cambridge Cake Emporium have yet to be confirmed, but those acquainted with the marquise will recognise her weaknesses in it.
Yay: book is talking to me again, the sun is shining, Horus is in so I don't have to spend three hours hunting for him, unlike Tues, Wed and Fri), and the cows are flourishing.

First line written today: 'If she might fly...'
Words added: 1333.
Sujhien is Up To Something, Aude is distressed, and Jehan might be startled to learn of his (apparent) demise.

Skirt of the day: blue crinkle satin wedgewood pattern.