She put her arm round my shoulders. “We’ll get by,” she said. “Don’t you worry. We don’t have to have a lot of money.”
When we got through breakfast I went off to the study and thought things over. I checked my bank deposit and found I was shorter than I imagined. This was getting me worried. I put through a long-distance ’phone-call to one of the editors.
When I got him on the line at last I said, “What’s the big idea sending my stuff back?”
“What do you mean?” He sounded curt.
“Look, Johnson, this ain’t the way to treat me,” I said. “I’ve done some good work for you. If you didn’t like that article, why not write and tell me what’s wrong with it?”
“I’m sorry, Mason, we don’t want any more of your stuff. We’re looking round for new talent.”
I said, “You don’t have to give me this bull. I’ve been a good friend of yours, Buddy. Why not give it to me straight? I can take it.”
He said very quietly into the ’phone, “Suppose you come up to town and we’ll have lunch.”
I said, “I’ll do that,” and hung up.
I went out to find Mardi. She was in the suntrap, fixing some flowers.