Today he looked more editorial then ever; so, shelving my own worries for the nonce, I endeavoured to cheer him up by telling him how much I had enjoyed his last issue. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t read it, but we Woosters do not shrink from subterfuge when it is a question of bracing up a buddy.

The treatment was effective. He showed animation and verve.

“You really liked it?”

“Red-hot, old thing.”

“Full of good stuff, eh?”

“Packed.”

“That poem⁠—‘ Solitude ’?”

“What a gem!”