Henry Kemp was not laughing now. His face looked a little drawn and old. He had allowed his cigar to go dead in the earnestness of the war talk. "You're safe, Lottie. It'll be over before we can ever go into it."
Ben Gartz flapped a hand in disagreement. "Don't you be too sure of that. I've heard it pretty straight that we'll be in by this time next year—if not before. I've had an offer to go into the men's watch-bracelet business on the strength of it. And if we do I'm going to take it. Fortune in it."
"Men's watch bracelets! Real men don't wear them. Mollycoddles!"
"Oh, don't they! No I guess not! Only engineers, and policemen and aviators and soldiers, that's all. Mollycoddles like that. They say they aren't wearing any kind but wrist watches over there. Well, if we go into the war I go into the men's watch-bracelet business, that's what. Fortune in it."
"Yeh," said Henry Kemp, haggardly. "If we go into the war I go into the poor-house."
Belle stood up, decisively. "It's getting late, Henry."
Mrs. Payson bristled. "It's only a little after nine. You only come once a week. I should think you needn't run off right after dinner."
"But it isn't right after dinner, mother. Besides Henry has been working terribly hard. He's worn out."
Mrs. Payson, who knew the state of Henry's business, sniffed in unbelief. But they went. In the hall:
"Then you'll be in to-morrow morning, Lottie?"