Presently Cope, having served as an intermediary, became the open centre of interest. His thesis was brought forward as a suitable subject of inquiry and comment. It was a relief to have come to a final decision; but no relief was in sight for a long time from the slavery of close reading. Every moment that could be spared from his classroom was given up to books--authors in whom he might be interested or not interested, but who must be gone through. "A sort of academic convention," said Cope, rather wanly; "but a necessary one." His eyes had begun to show excessive application; at least they looked tired and dim. His color, too, was paler. He had come to suggest again the young man who had been picked up from Medora Phillips' dining-room floor and laid out on the couch in her library, and who had shown a good deal of pallor during the few days that followed. "Take a little more air and exercise," Randolph counselled. "A good rule always, for everybody," said Lemoyne, with a withholding of all tone and expression. "I believe," Randolph continued, "that you are losing in both weight and color. That would be no advantage to yourself--and it might complicate Miss Dunton's problem. It's perplexing to an artist when one's subject changes under one's very eye." "There won't be much time for sitting, from now on," observed Lemoyne concisely. "I might try to go round once more," said Cope, "--in fairness. If there are to be higher lights on my cheekbones and lower lights for my eyes, an hour or so should serve to settle it." "I wouldn't introduce many changes into my eyes and cheekbones, if I were you," said Randolph. Lemoyne was displeased; he thought that Randolph was taking advantage of his position as host to make an observation of unwarranted saliency, and he frowned at his plate. Cope flushed, and looked at his. The talk drifted toward dramatics, with Winnebago once more the background; but the foreground was occupied by a new musical comedy which one of the clubs might try in another month, and the tone became more cheery. Sing-Lo, who had come in with a maple mousse of his own making, smiled at last; and he smiled still more widely when, at the end of the course, his chief occidental masterpiece was praised. Sing-Lo also provided coffee and cigars in the den; and it was here that Cope felt the atmosphere right for venturing a word in behalf of Lemoyne. There had been few signs of relenting in Winnebago; and some modest source of income would be welcome--in fact, was almost necessary. "Of course work _is_ increasing in the offices," said Randolph, looking from one young man to the other; "and of course I have, directly or indirectly, some slight 'influence.'" He felt no promptings to lend Lemoyne a hand; yet Cope himself, even if out of reach, might at least remain an object of continuing kindness.