"Why should I as long as my stomach and my pocket-book are comfortable? But I'm not sure whether I'll go or not. That's what worries me." "You've made," Bailly said, testily, "enough out of the war to warrant your giving it something." George grinned. It was quite like old times. "Even myself, on top of all the rest I might make out of it by staying back?" "You're not as selfish as you'd have me believe," Bailly cried. George quoted a phrase of Wandel's since Bailly seemed just now to approve of the adventurer. "The man that keeps himself makes the world better." Bailly drove him out of the room to dress for dinner. "I won't talk to you any more," he said. "I won't curse the loiterer at the base until I am sure he isn't going to climb." XVI At least George wouldn't have to decide at once. When it became clear that for the present Mrs. Alston's optimism was justified he breathed easier. With Goodhue, Lambert, and Mundy he applied himself unreservedly to his work. Consequently he didn't visit much, didn't see Sylvia again until the fall when he met her at a dinner at the Goodhues'. She shrank from him perceptibly, but there was no escape. He studied her with an easier mind. No date for her wedding had been set. Until that moment should come there was nothing he could do. What he would be able to accomplish then was problematical. Something. She shouldn't throw herself away on Blodgett. "It must be comforting," he heard her say to Goodhue, "to know if trouble comes your wonderful firm will be taken care of." George guessed she had meant him to hear that. "I'm sure I hope so," Goodhue answered her, "but what do you mean?" "I heard Mr. Morton say once he didn't think he'd care to go to war. Didn't I, Mr. Morton?" Goodhue, clearly puzzled by her manner, laughed. "Give us something more useful, Sylvia. He's a born fighter." "I believe I said it," George answered her. "There might be problems here I couldn't very well desert." Her eyes wavered. He recalled her hysterical manner that evening at Oakmont. She still sought chances to hurt him. In spite of Blodgett, then, she recognized a state of contest between them. He smiled contentedly, for as long as that persisted his cause was alive. XVII It languished, however, during the winter as did Blodgett's hopes of a speedy wedding. The Planters' Fifth Avenue home remained closed, because of Mr. Planter's health. Sylvia and her mother went south with him. Blodgett made a number of flying trips, deserting his affairs to that extent to be with Sylvia. George was satisfied for the present to let things drift. Dalrymple certainly had drifted with events. He had taken no pains to hide the shock of Sylvia's engagement. George of all people could understand his disappointment, his helpless rage; but Dalrymple hadn't bothered him, and he had about decided he never would.