would
only be from about six in the evening until midnight, and he could do
some articles or stories during the day, or at any rate he hoped so.
After all, a certain two pounds was far better than nothing, even though
the rent of the flat would swallow fully half of it. So he accepted,
after a nervous and unsuccessful attempt to get Dodgson to increase the
offer by ten shillings.

As he walked back westwards, he found himself wondering what the editor
would have said had he explained how much that extra ten shillings
would have meant to him. The paper was paying a dividend of twenty per
cent., and if the wages of all the sub-editors had been doubled the
shareholders would never have noticed the difference; but to Lalage and
Jimmy the lack of that half-sovereign would involve semi-starvation,
unless it were possible to sell some articles.

Lalage put on a brave face when he told her. "It's a beginning, dear,"
she said. "Of course, it's a shame to pay a clever man like you so
little; but now you've got your foot in, you'll soon get on. You mustn't
be downhearted about it, Jimmy." She glanced at him keenly. "You're
tired out to-night, and I don't believe you've spent anything on
yourself in getting a drink and so on; and you've walked all the way
from Fleet Street. Now haven't you?"

Jimmy tried to protest he was all right, but his heavy eyes betrayed
him, and she insisted that he should go out and get a quartern of
brandy.

"But that will take pretty well all we've got," he answered. "And what
will you do to-morrow?"

"Oh, something will happen," she retorted. "And the worst thing for me
would be to have you ill. What would poor Lalage do then? Now go, like a
dear good boy."

As the door closed behind him, all the brightness left her face. "I
suppose his people would say I was making him drink," she sighed. "Oh,
Jimmy, Jimmy, I'm so afraid. If only I dare agree to give up this flat,
and we could go into quite cheap lodgings. But how can I risk losing
everything?"

Jimmy's work proved more tiring than he had expected. He was thoroughly
conscientious, savagely anxious to satisfy the chief sub-editor and get
a raise; moreover, he was in anything but good health. Consequently, he
always got back to the flat in the early mornings tired out, and, though
he tried hard to write during the daytime, even he, himself, could see
that the work he produced was below his usual level. Anyway, it did not
sell, coming back every