It ran through his fingers loosely, incessantly.

He hardly knew now where the next remittances to Phoebe were to come from.

At first he had done a certain amount of illustrating work and had generally sent her the proceeds of it.

But of late he had been absorbed in his big picture, and there had been few or no small earnings.

Perhaps, if he hadn't written those articles to the _Mirror_, there would have been time for some?
Well, why shouldn't he write them?
His irritable pride took fire at once at the thought of blame.
No one could say, anyway, that he had spent money in amusement.