Theo nodded. People everywhere were talking about the war, not just the conflict but also its political, economic and social effects, and they were forming new ideas. But to Theo, what the troops were talking and thinking about mattered more. What counted to Theo was the reading material soldiers like Howie had to occupy them through the long days and nights, so getting books into their hands was Theo’s priority. He couldn’t be there fighting alongside them, so he would do everything he could to help, the only way he knew how.

“I agree with you, Walter, and that’s why we’re carrying on doing what we’ve always done—publishing the world’s best books. There’s no denying it’s getting harder, but like everyone, we’re adapting.”

“We wouldn’t have to if Roosevelt hadn’t gone soft, giving everything away while our own boys go without,” Walter said, glowering.

Theo had managed his relationship with Walter by avoiding too much political debate, since he didn’t share his future father-in-law’s Republican values, or like tempering his own views. Theo agreed wholeheartedly with Roosevelt’s Lend-Lease program, which supplied material support and goods to the Allies, and it had been an easy decision for him to help vote the Democrat in for a third term.

“Ten percent of this nation’s families can tell you about that support,” Theo said, unable to control himself as he thought of Howie and his own family, “and it’s not ideals we’re trading in—it’s their sons.”

“So, we give them our money and our future, Theo. What else do you suggest we give away?” Walter frowned at him as he banged down his coffee cup onto the table.

“Let’s do something about it, then. Let’s give their sons books to distract and motivate them.”

“I know you’re keen on your council books, but I don’t think it’s our place to provide propaganda for our troops—and the industry can’t afford it.”

“I’m not saying we provide propaganda, Walter. The council is publishing fiction too.”

Walter went to stand by the window, looking out to the east, eyes scanning the water towers and cranes that punctuated the skyline. Watching him, Theo found it hard to believe he was still so rigidly opposed to supporting their citizens because of his own political prejudices, and that he couldn’t see what was happening right under his nose: New York still looked grand, but workers were scraping the metal cornices off its hotels.

“You were at the last board meeting, Theo. You know the cost and what was said.”

Theo came to stand next to the older man, observing his profile as he continued to gaze out at the city.

“So, you’re not just worried about the profit margin anymore?” he asked.