“So he’s giving up a secure job, and he’s going into this harum-scarum plan for buying up the sands of Sandport for nothing and selling them as house-plots for a fortune. Even if there were anything in it, who’s going to finance him? Of course he’ll come to me as usual.”
“But he says he’s got the capital.”
“That’s just it—from where? His pocket always had a hole in it. When he says he’s got money, I don’t believe him; when he’s proved his word I grow nervous.”
Barrington leant across the table, rapping with his knuckles. “Ocky’s the kind of amiable weak fellow who can easily be made bad—especially by a woman who refuses to love him. Once a man like that’s gone under, you can never bring him back—he’s lost what staying quality he ever had.”
Nan rarely argued with her husband. Pushing back her chair, she went and knelt beside him, pressing her soft cheek against his hand. “You are a silly Billy, dearest, to be so serious on such a happy morning. There’s no danger of Ocky ever becoming bad; and, in any case, what’s this got to do with the matter? I know he’s foolish and his jokes get on your nerves; but it isn’t his fault that he’s not clever like you. You shouldn’t be gloomy just because he’s going to be daring. I don’t wonder he’s sick of that lawyer’s office. And it’s absurd to think that he’s going to be bad; look how Peter loves him. You like Ocky more than you pretend, now don’t you?”
“If liking’s being sorry. I’m always sorry for an ass; and I’m angry with Jehane because she knows better. She’s doing this because she’s jealous of you—that’s why she clutches at this bubble chance of prosperity.”
“Ar’n’t you a little unjust to her, Billy? Since our marriage, you’ve always been unjust to her. You know why she’s jealous—she wants her husband to be like you.”
Her voice sank away to a whisper. “Oh, Janey, I did, I did play fair,” she had said that night at Cassingland; in her violent assertion of fairness there had been an implied question which Jehane had never answered. Both she and her husband knew that they had never been acquitted.
Barrington drew Nan’s head against his shoulder. “Poor people.” Then he kissed her with new and eager gladness.
“And it isn’t only pity you feel for Ocky?” She persisted. “Now confess.”