'I should take it, to be sure.'
'But you don't want a job that would occupy all your time? You're going on with writing, of course?'
'Not for the present, I think.'
'Then you would like me to keep a look-out? I haven't anything in view--nothing whatever. But one hears of things sometimes.'
'I should be obliged to you if you could help me to anything satisfactory.'
Having brought himself to this admission, Reardon felt more at ease. To what purpose should he keep up transparent pretences? It was manifestly his duty to earn as much money as he could, in whatever way. Let the man of letters be forgotten; he was seeking for remunerative employment, just as if he had never written a line.
Amy did not return the ten pounds, and did not write again. So, presumably, she would accept the moiety of his earnings; he was glad of it. After paying half-a-crown for rent, there would be left ten shillings. Something like three pounds that still remained to him he would not reckon; this must be for casualties.
Half-a-sovereign was enough for his needs; in the old times he had counted it a competency which put his mind quite at rest.
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