“Published?”
“No.”
“Well ... got anything else?”
“No—not just at present.”
“Oh well—must have something to show you know—”
“Yes.” Peter's hopes were in his boots.
“Yes—must have something to show—” Mr. Boset's eyes were peering into the cardboard box on a voyage of selection.
“Yes—well—when you've written something send it along—”
“I suppose there isn't anything I can do—”
“Well, our staff, you know, is filled up to the eyes as it is—fellows waiting—lots of 'em—yes, you show us what you can do. Write an article or two. Buy The Mascot and see the kind of thing we like. Yes—Excuse me, the telephone—Yes—Yes 6140 Strand....”