"
"It's grinding out copy for the Supplement at the same time that
takes all the starch out of me. You've no idea what it means to
write all day, and then sit down and write all evening."
"I WISH you could get off the 'Times,'" said Blix. "You're just
giving the best part of your life to hack work, and NOW it's
interfering with your novel. I know you could do better work on
your novel if you didn't have to work on the 'Times,' couldn't
you?"
"Oh, if you come to that, of course I could," he answered. "But
they won't give me a vacation. I was sounding the editor on it
day before yesterday. No; I'll have to manage somehow to swing
the two together."
"Well, let's not talk shop now. Condy. You need a rest. Do you
want to play poker?"
They played for upward of an hour that evening, and Condy, as
usual, lost. His ill-luck was positively astonishing. During the
last two months he had played poker with Blix on an average of
three or four evenings in the week. and at the close of every
game it was Blix who had all the chips.
Blix had come to know the game quite as well, if not better, than
he. She could almost invariably tell when Condy held a good hand,
but on her part could assume an air of indifference absolutely
inscrutable.
"Cards?" said Condy, picking up the deck after the deal.
"I'll stand pat, Condy."
"The deuce you say," he answered, with a stare. "I'll take
three."
"I'll pass it up to you," continued Blix gravely.
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