Cleigh did not answer, but peered through the glass again.
“I don’t see how you’re going to land him without the British. On the other hand, you can’t tell. Cunningham might bring the stuff back.” 267
Cleigh laughed, but still held the glass to his eye.
“When and where are you going to get married?”
“Manila. Jane wants to go home, and I want a job.”
Cleigh touched his split lips and his bruised cheekbone, for he had had to pay for his gallantry; and there was a spot in his small ribs that racked him whenever he breathed deeply.
“What the devil do you want of a job?”
“You’re not thinking that I’m going back on an allowance? I’ve had independence for seven years, and I’m going to keep it, Father.”
“I’ve money enough”—brusquely.
“That isn’t it. I want to begin somewhere and build something for myself. You know as well as I do that if I went home on an allowance you’d begin right off to dominate me as you used to, and no man is going to do that again.”