Feeling through the coat next morning, searching for his tobacco-pouch, Ocky was shrewd enough to notice that the letter was in its envelope. Such neatness was not his habit. When he came back in the evening from seeing Barrington and Jehane enquired what he had been doing, he handed her the letter with generous frankness.
“You can read it now. I wanted to be sure before I told you. I was right. Barrington’s been talking to Wagstaif and has heard all about it. Oh yes, I can tell you, he’s a very different Barrington.”
“How?”
“He’s discovered that Ocky Waffles Esquire is a person to be respected.”
She scorned herself for her mean suspicions. He deserved an atonement. “Ocky, darling, I’m so glad.”
As her arms went about him, he patted her on the back. “That’s all right, old Duchess. You’ll believe in me now—eh?”
She lifted her face from his shoulder. It was tear-stained with penitence. “God knows, I’ve always tried to, Ocky.”
He must go her one better in generosity. Having deceived her, he could afford to be magnanimous.
“You’ve succeeded, old dear. You’ve given me your strength and made a man of me. I’m your doing.”