lite is not in
Bill's line. I told him so myself today--and we had quite a session.

"Oh, Joe, I'm sorry," Ethel said.

"You needn't be. Bill Nourse and I will stick together as long as we
live." Ethel looked at him sharply, but he did not notice. "Because,"
he said, "with all his faults, his queerness and his grouches, Bill has
done more than any man living to--well, to keep something alive in
me--in my work, I mean--that I want later on--as soon as I've made money
enough." She stared at him.

"You mean that he--your partner--wants something more than money?" It
was a slip, but she was stunned. He turned and looked at her and asked,
in a voice rather strained and husky:

"Do you think Bill cares about money alone?"

"Why, yes!"

"That's funny." But Joe's laugh was grim. "If Bill had had his way with
me, I'd have had a name as an architect that would have been known all
over the country--instead of being what I am, a gambler in cheap real
estate."

She questioned him further, her manner alert, her eyes with a startled,
thoughtful look. But he did not seem to want to talk.

"Then why," she asked herself in a daze, "if Bill is so against this
business, does he keep at it day and night? Oh, yes, we'll have to look
into this--as soon as I get back to town! You've got to come and see
me, and explain yourself, friend Bill." She frowned in such a puzzled
way. "You, a friend? How funny!"

CHAPTER XVI

The week after Ethel's return to town, she was surprised one afternoon
when in response to a note she had sent him her husband's partner came
to see her. She had thought it would be more difficult.

"Joe won't interrupt us," he said. "I put work in his way. He'll be
home late."

Tall, gaunt and angular, somewhat stooped, Nourse stood looking down at
her; and as, perplexed and excited, Ethel scanned his visage, so heavy
in spite of its narrow lines, she saw an expression in which contempt
was tempered by a sort of regret and weariness. And of course he was
awkward, too. She said to herself, "Be careful now."

"Won't you sit down?" she asked him.

"Thank you." And he took a seat.

"I wanted to see you," she began, but Nourse interrupted her.

"Would you object," he asked her, "if I do the talking for a while?
I've got it fairly clear in mind, just what I want to say to you."

"Why, yes, of course, if you prefer," she said, a little breathlessly.

"Well, Mrs. Lanier, I think I know about what you want--and