George took the opening to ask a question that had been in his mind for many days.
"Where is he? What's he up to? I haven't seen him, but, naturally, I keep to myself, too, and Dicky, bless him, mentions nothing."
Lambert frowned.
"He hasn't been around the office much since. He's taking his own sweet will with himself now. He's gone away—to Canada. It's cold there, but it's also fairly wet."
"If one could only be sure he had the virtue of loving her!" George mused.
"He hasn't," Lambert said, impatiently. "Since I talked with him that hectic night I've admitted that Dolly's never had the capacity to love any one except himself. So he's probably happy in his own unpleasant way."
A thought came to George. He smiled a little.
"I've been wondering if Sylvia is going in harder than ever on the side of the downtrodden."
Lambert laughed.
"As far as I know, hasn't mentioned a cossack since that night; and I have to confess, hard-headed reactionary, the ranks are making me see too many bad qualities among the good."