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 wasn't enough to bother about. Nor, it suddenly dawned upon Felix, was a thousand either, for that matter. The loss of either amount wouldn't make Mr. Fairchild suffer, nor anybody he cared about. While to Felix, while to the person Felix cared most about in the world, it would mean He drew in his breath sharply and looked at the paper with new and sudden interest.

He had left Sheilah in bed that morning. In his mind's eye he could see her now—lying on her side, listless and unresponsive, one bare arm extending beyond the edge of the bed, and her hand hanging down limp.

Quickly Felix raised his eyes and looked at the closed door, swiftly his glance darted from corner to corner of the sealed cage like a frightened bird, then sought the roof—made of round disks of glass set in metal, across which now hurried hundreds of tramping feet, careless and unconcerned.

It wasn't so much to make sure that he was alone and unwatched that made Felix search the little room with frightened eyes, as it was a wish to escape the sudden opportunity thrust before him. He didn't want to take the bond. Since his marriage he had never been anything but honest in his various positions. But he had a sneaking feeling that it was because he was afraid of being anything else. He had seen other young men (other young men whom