'
Reardon's indignation yielded to laughter.
'It's not impossible that he may thrive by this kind of thing.'
'Not at all,' assented Jasper.
Shortly after this he looked at his watch.
'I must be off, my friends. I have something to write before I
can go to my truckle-bed, and it'll take me three hours at least.
Good-bye, old man. Let me know when your story's finished, and
we'll talk about it. And think about Mrs Boston Wright; oh, and
about that review in The Current. I wish you'd let me do it. Talk
it over with your guide, philosopher, and friend.'
He indicated Amy, who laughed in a forced way.
When he was gone, the two sat without speaking for several
minutes.
'Do you care to make friends with those girls?' asked Reardon at
length.
'I suppose in decency I must call upon them?'
'I suppose so.'
'You may find them very agreeable.'
'Oh yes.'
They conversed with their own thoughts for a while. Then Reardon
burst out laughing.
'Well, there's the successful man, you see. Some day he'll live
in a mansion, and dictate literary opinions to the universe.
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