“Oh, all right,” he said awkwardly. “I wanted to see you about that. I was going to write to you.”
“Oh, yes,” I said, “of course. About the holiday work. When are you off?”
“I was thinking of starting next week.”
“Good. Sorry to lose you, of course, but——”
He shuffled his feet.
“You’re doing pretty well now at the game, aren’t you, Cloyster?” he said.
It was not to my interests to cry myself down, so I said that I was doing quite decently. He seemed relieved.
“You’re making quite a good income, I suppose? I mean, no difficulty about placing your stuff?”
“Editors squeal for it.”
“Because, otherwise what I wanted to say to you might have been something of a blow. But it won’t affect you much if you’re doing plenty of work elsewhere.”