On the contrary, Fairfax thought so. He leaned forward eagerly, and Rainsford, watching him, saw a transfigured man. "Death," said the engineer, "has taken everything from me. Life has given me nothing, old man. I have a feeling that perhaps now, through this, I may regain what I have lost.... I long to take my chance." The other exclaimed sympathetically, "My dear fellow, you must take it by all means." Fairfax remained thoughtful a moment, then asked almost appealingly---- "Why, how can I do so? Such an effort would cost my living, _her_ living, the renting of a place to work in...." As he watched Rainsford's face his eyes kindled. "I offered to lend you money once, Tony," recalled his friend, "and I wish to God you'd taken the loan then, because just at present--" The Utter Failure raised his near-sighted eyes, and the look of disappointment on the bright countenance of the engineer cut him to the heart. "Never mind." Fairfax's voice was forced in its cheerfulness. "Something or other will turn up, I shall work Sundays and half-days, and I reckon I can put it through. I am bound to," he finished ardently, "just bound to." Rainsford said musingly, "I made a little investment, but it went to pot. I hoped--I'm always hoping--but the money didn't double itself." The engineer didn't hear him. He was already thinking how he could transform his kitchen into a studio, although it had an east light. Just here Rainsford leaned over and put his hand on Antony's sleeve. "I want to say a word to you about your wife. I don't think she's very well." "Molly?" answered his companion calmly. "She's all right. She has a mighty fine constitution, and I never heard her complain. When did you see her, Rainsford?" He frowned. "Saturday, when you were in New York. You forgot to send your pass-book, and I went for it myself." "Well?" queried Antony. "What then?" "Mrs. Fairfax gave me the book, and I stopped to speak with her for a few moments. I find her very much changed." The light died from the young man's illumined face where his visions had kindled a sacred fire. The realities of life blotted it out. "I'm not able to give Molly any distractions, that you know." "She doesn't want them, Tony." Rainsford looked kindly and affectionately, almost tenderly, at him, and repeated gently: "She doesn't want amusement, Tony." And Fairfax threw up his head with a sort of despair on his face-- "My God, Rainsford," he murmured, "what can I do?" "I'm afraid she's breaking her heart," said the older man. "Poor little woman!" CHAPTER XXVII