“That’s a rotten thing to say to a fellow, Billy. What brought me, indeed!”
It was Barrington’s turn to shift in his chair. He hated to be called Billy by Waffles. The offence was repeated.
“You’re confoundedly direct, Billy. Whenever I visit you, you always think I’ve come to get something.”
“And haven’t you?” Barrington’s voice was hard. “Well, I have, now you mention it.”
A pause.
Barrington lost patience. “Why can’t you get it out like a man? You’ve done something while Jehane’s been away—something that made you afraid to meet her. Haven’t you?”
“Jehane!—— In a sense it’s her doing. Don’t see why she should make me afraid.”
“Her doing! In what way?”
Ocky struck a match; finding his pipe empty, he held the match till it burnt his fingers. “I’m not blaming Jehane, but it is her doing up to a point. She wants money to dress her girls up to the nines. She wants money to make the house look stylish. If it hadn’t been for Jehane, I should never have left old Wagstaff’s office. Mind, I’m not blaming her. But where was the money to come from?”
“You let her believe you were making it.”