During the next few weeks Briggs was so busy with his political work that he practically lived away from home, returning there chiefly to sleep. Whenever he did pass a part of the day at home, he was shut up in the library, working with Guy over his mail, or in seeing callers. He perceived now for the first time how far he had drifted away from the party-moorings. From all sides he received warnings, sometimes covert, occasionally frank and threatening, that a determined opposition was to be made to his renomination. But, the nomination once secured, he felt sure that he could hold his former supporters and gain increased strength from the Independents, whom William Farley was trying to win over. Briggs kept in uninterrupted communication with Farley; he had begun to find the journalist extremely companionable. He recalled now with a secret shame that at first he had been suspicious of Farley, attributing an insidious selfishness to his motives; but in every emergency, Farley had shown himself to be open and generous and clean-minded. But it was Farley’s perfect confidence that most deeply touched Douglas Briggs. Sometimes Briggs wondered what Helen thought when she saw them working together, with Farley in a subordinate attitude. With her fine sense of character, a sense he had never known to err except with regard to himself, she must long ago have learned to appreciate the journalist’s character. Briggs wondered if she suspected that he was trying to use Farley. Once the thought made him boldly accuse himself. But he found a vindication in the thought that he was fighting his way against odds toward an honorable goal. Once elected to Congress, he would do everything in his power to atone for the wrong he had done. His future life would be not merely an expiation, but a vindication. He assured himself that if he were to falter now, he would be a coward. He was committed to his course.