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A year or two, if the war lasted so long, and he
would be on his feet at last, after years of struggle to keep his
organization together through the hard times that preceded the war.
He would be much more than on his feet. Given three more years of
war, and he would be a very rich man.
And now that the goal was within sight, he was finding that it was
not money he wanted. There were some things money could not buy.
He had always spent money. His anxieties had not influenced his
scale of living. Money, for instance, could not buy peace for the
world; or peace for a man, either. It had only one value for a man;
it gave him independence of other men, made him free.
"Three things," said the rector, apropos of something or other, and
rather oratorically, "are required by the normal man. Work, play,
and love. Assure the crippled soldier that he has lost none of
these, and - "
Work and play and love. Well, God knows he had worked. Play? He
would have to take up golf again more regularly.


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