"By the way, did you read those stories?"
"Yes."
"Worth anything?"
"I don't know."
"Silly love stories?"
"No; love wasn't the theme. Supposing you take them and read them?
You might be able to tell me why I felt disappointed."
"All right. I'll take them back with me. Probably he has something to say and can't say it, or he writes well about nothing."
"Do you believe his failure caused…."
"What?" he barked. But he did not follow on with the thought. There was no need of sowing suspicion when he wasn't really certain there were grounds for it. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. "These writer chaps are queer birds."
"Queer birds."