"You are very kind."
"As many of them as ever you can write, and some day a long novel. I believe in you, Overton."
"Oh, sir, you are more than kind—to a raw recruit—on the ladder which you yourself——"
"My good Overton, why on earth didn't you mix those metaphors three months ago? Not that you're raw at all—unless it's with me!"
Two frail hands were laid on the young man's shoulders. He answered dryly:
"My other name isn't Overton. It's Overman. But I forgot, you said it wasn't your concern!"
"Ah, well, but the man who is to make the name famous is becoming my very grave concern. You should have let me know that you were in our swim, my boy."
"Before I was sure of keeping myself afloat? I thought I had a better chance as a—bad whist-player!"
"Confound the boy!" cried Wolff Mason, "but you were perfectly right, though your work is better than your whist."