“Waste? No,” I said. “The invention is one that would carry all before it; but, poor fellow, he is tied and fettered at every turn. He has nearly got it to perfection, but, after months of constant toil, some wretched part breaks down, and the whole thing has to be done again.”
“But is it likely to succeed?”
“Likely?” I said: “it must succeed; but it never can until it has been made and tried. It should be carefully constructed at some large engineering establishment like ours.”
“Yes,” she said, evidently listening intently.
“But how can it be? Poor Hallett earns about two pounds a week, and the demands upon his pocket, through his mother’s and sister’s illness, have been terrible. He is heavily in debt now to the doctors.”
“Why do you not help your friend, then, Antony?” she said in tones of reproach.
“Because he will not let me,” I replied quietly. “He is too proud.”
Miss Carr was silent.
“What amount would it take,” she said at last, in a strange tone, “to perfect the machine?”
“Amount?” I said eagerly; “an awful deal. It is impossible to say how much. Why, the patent would cost nearly a hundred. Poor fellow! I wish sometimes he would give it up.”