'm not sure which. And he wasn't just
dreaming of building it in his successful middle age--he was building it
now, in a terrible rush, as though Kansas City were pushing him hard.
Joe didn't live in the future, you see--he took the future and made it
the present, and then lived in the present like mad."

Dwight tossed away his cigarette.

"But you say it's money now."

"Yes," she replied. "It's money." He smiled at her dejected tone.

"I wouldn't be so sad," he remarked. "Money isn't as bad as it seems."

"Oh, yes, and I want it," Ethel declared. "But I want the others so
much more!"

When her car had come, she rose and said, "You and Joe must get together
some time. Couldn't you call him up some day and get him to lunch with
you?"

"Gladly." They went to the door.

"But don't be disappointed," she said, "if you find him changed even
more than you think. Money has such a pull on a man."

"I know, but I rather like it."

"What?"

"Oh, don't be so indignant, please. I am an artist--honestly. But some
of these men I've met over here--well, they fascinate me. Such
boundless energy and drive ought to go into a symphony. Plenty of drums
and crashing brass. Good-bye, Mrs. Lanier," he added. "This has been
a lucky day for me."

"Thank you. Don't forget about Joe. And meanwhile--till next Tuesday."

As she settled back in her car she thought,

"All right, Ethel, very good."

Twice a week, that autumn, she went to Dwight for lessons. But until
some time had passed, she did not mention it to Joe.

"When you meet him," she said to Dwight, "I'd rather you wouldn't speak
of my lessons. I want my singing to be a surprise. And besides, I'd so
much rather that any old friends of my husband's come to him through his
partner. It seems so much more natural."

"I see," said Dwight. "But he doesn't," she thought, "and I'll have to
explain."

"Later, of course, I'll tell him," she said, "But just now, in the state
he's in, if you or any one else of his friends who knew him as he used
to be should come and say, 'Sent by your wife, with her compliments and
fervent hopes of your speedy resurrection '--oh, no, it wouldn't do at
all." Dwight was watching her curiously.

"How many of us are there!" he asked. She looked at him in a
questioning way.

"Of us," he explained, "Joe's old friends, who are to dig him up, you
know."

"Only you, at present--and of course his partner. He smiled:

"Bill Nourse is not a very bri