He was too busy getting the cash.
"He had dropped all pretence of any work that was really worth while, and had turned his art into a business.

He became a real estate gambler and an architect, all in one.

He got to speculating in land--and what he built on it he didn't care, so long as it produced the cash.

Oh, it wasn't all at once, you know, you can't strangle the soul of a man in a hurry--but by the time your sister died, the buildings Joe was putting up were just about as common and cheap as the average play on Broadway--crowd pleasers.

He had lost his nerve.