"Why, Trlk!" I exclaimed. "How come you know about things like this?"
e confessed he had lived with such a man, a freelance writer who never made the grade with his writing, but who had plenty of girl friends who paid the freight.
"He had a way with women," Trlk explained.
"He certainly had," I said, reading again the last page he had dictated.
"He finally married an older woman with money. Then he gave up trying to write."
"I don't blame him," I said wistfully.
"I had to find another writer. This time I decided to try a newspaper. That's where I ran into you."
"Don't remind me."