"But that's my job, Moira. We'll get some money together—some way—when I get out." "Thanks. But I'm hoping to do a lot of painting. I've got one portrait to begin on—and it doesn't cost much in the Quartier." "Thanks. But I'm hoping to do a lot of painting. I've got one portrait to begin on—and it doesn't cost much in the Quartier." Horton sat up in bed and looked out of the window. Horton sat up in bed and looked out of the window. "I'll get money," he said. "Don't you worry." "I'll get money," he said. "Don't you worry." He saw her eyes studying him quietly and he sank back at once in bed out of the glare of the sunlight. He wondered if he had gone too far. But he had found out one of the things that he had wanted to know. She knew nothing of what Barry Quinlevin was doing. He saw her eyes studying him quietly and he sank back at once in bed out of the glare of the sunlight. He wondered if he had gone too far. But he had found out one of the things that he had wanted to know. She knew nothing of what Barry Quinlevin was doing. Her next remark was disquieting. Her next remark was disquieting. "It's very strange, the way I'm thinking about you. You've grown different in the army—or is it the sickness? There's a sweeter look to your mouth, and a firmer turn to your jaw. Your gaze is wider and your heart has grown soft, with the suffering. It's like another man, I'm seeing somehow, Harry, and I'm glad." "It's very strange, the way I'm thinking about you. You've grown different in the army—or is it the sickness? There's a sweeter look to your mouth, and a firmer turn to your jaw. Your gaze is wider and your heart has grown soft, with the suffering. It's like another man, I'm seeing somehow, Harry, and I'm glad." "Suffering—yes, perhaps," he muttered. "Suffering—yes, perhaps," he muttered. She leaned forward impulsively and put her hand over his, smiling brightly at him. She leaned forward impulsively and put her hand over his, smiling brightly at him.
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