“Go to bed, ordinarily, and sleep while the mud is drying up. There’s usually a big improvement by morning.”
“And when there isn’t—”
Roberts smiled, the tight-jawed smile of a fighter.
“It’s a case of pull, then; a pull as though Satan himself were just behind and in hot pursuit. 91 Things are bound to give if one pulls hard enough.”
Armstrong’s face returned to the grate. His slippered feet spread wider than before.
“I’m not much good at pulling,” he commented.
Roberts sat a moment in silence.
“I repeat, if I can be of any assistance—” he commented. “No butting in, you understand.”
“Yes, I understand, and thank you sincerely. I doubt if you can help any though—if any one can. It’s the old complaint mostly.”
“Publishers who fail to appreciate, I gather.”