There's nothing wrong with that.

They publish worse every month.

Everything they publish is worse--nearly everything, anyway." After breakfast he put the type-writer in its case and carried it down into Oakland.
"I owe a month on it," he told the clerk in the store.

"But you tell the manager I'm going to work and that I'll be in in a month or so and straighten up." He crossed on the ferry to San Francisco and made his way to an employment office.

"Any kind of work, no trade," he told the agent; and was interrupted by a new-comer, dressed rather foppishly, as some workingmen dress who have instincts for finer things.