Roger saw little of Deborah in the weeks that followed. She was gathering
her forces for the long struggle she saw ahead. And his own worries filled
his mind. On his house he succeeded in borrowing five thousand dollars at
ten per cent, and in his office he worked out a scheme along the lines of
Deborah's plan. At first it was only a struggle to save the remnants of
what was left. Later the tide began to turn, new business came into the
office again. But only a little, and then it stopped. Hard times were here
for the winter.

Soon Edith would come with the children. He wondered how sensible she would
be. It was going to mean a daily fight to make ends meet, he told himself,
and guiltily he decided not to let his daughter know how matters stood in
his office. Take care of your own flesh and blood, and then be generous as
you please--that had always been his way. And now Deborah had upset it by
her emotional appeal. "How dramatic she is at times!" he reflected in
annoyance. "Just lets herself out and enjoys herself!" He grew angry at her
interference, and more than once he resolved to shut down. But back in the
office, before those watchful faces, still again he would put it off.

"Wait a little. We'll see," he thought.

* * * * *

In the meantime, in this interplay, these shifting lights and shadows which
played upon the history of the life of Roger's home, there came to him a
diversion from an unexpected source. Laura and Harold returned from abroad.
Soon after landing they came to the house, and talking fast and eagerly
they told how they had eluded the war.

For them it had been a glorious game. In Venice in early August, Harold
had seen a chance for a big stroke of business. He had a friend who lived
in Rome, an Italian close to his government. At once they had joined
forces, worked day and night, pulled wires, used money judiciously here and
there, and so had secured large orders for munitions from the U.S.A. Then
to get back to God's country! There came the hitch, they were too late.
Naples, Genoa, and Milan, all were filled with tourist mobs. They took a
train for Paris, and reaching the city just a week before the end of the
German drive they found it worse than Italy. But there Hal had a special
pull--and by the use of those wits of his, not to be downed by refusals, he
got passage at last for Laura, himself and his new Italian partner. At
midnight, making their way across the