“It would be a good deal more than splendid. It would mean the end of little houses and cheap servants and neighbors that you can’t introduce to your father’s friends. It would mean the end of pinching and scraping to save a penny. And it would mean a chance for my girls.”
Nan slipped an arm into hers and hugged it. “Dear old thing, I think I understand. And when is Ocky coming over to tell us all about it? He gave us hardly any details in his letter.”
Jehane became evasive. “He’s naturally very busy. The chance developed so suddenly that he’s hardly had time to turn round. It came to him through a client at the office. Mr. Playfair had noticed him at his desk as he passed in and out to see Mr. Wagstaff. He’s told Ocky since that he spotted him at once and said to himself, ‘If ever I want a chap with-business push and legal knowledge, that’s my man.’”
“And he’s never talked with him?”
“Hardly. Not much more than to say ‘How d’you do?’ or ‘Good-morning’.”
“Wasn’t it wonderful that he should have sized him up in a flash?”
Jehane glanced at her narrowly. “It may be wonderful to you; it isn’t to me. I’m well aware that you and Billy don’t think much of Ocky. Oh, where’s the sense in disowning it? You both think he’s a born fool.”
“I’m sure you never heard Billy say that.”
“Heard him say it! Of course I didn’t. I’d like to hear him dare to say anything like that about my husband. But actions speak louder than words. He thinks it just the same; he thinks that Ocky’s good for nothing But to sit at a desk, taking a salary from another man. P’rhaps, you didn’t know that for years Ocky’s been the brains of that office?”
Nan lifted her honest eyes; she was filled with discomfort. This kind of controversy was always happening when they met; they drifted into some sort of feud for which Jehane invariably held her responsible. “The brains of the office! No, indeed, I never heard that. Why didn’t you tell us?”