“That’s very nice of you, Barry. But what would your father say to it?”
“Oh, he’s dead set against it, of course.”
“Why is he dead set against it?”
“He thinks you’re not in our class.”
“It would jolt his pride?”
“It would smash it. But you know, Mary, that would make no difference to me.”
“It might cost you your job.”
“No fear of that. They can’t get along without me at the mill. Much of the success of the company is due to the way I manage things there.”
“Indeed!” She smiled, and yet she felt that it was pathetic in a way—this man’s confidence in his own ability, his open-mindedness and sincerity. One thing only she rolled as a sweet morsel under her tongue: Richard Malleson’s distress at his son’s infatuation.
But Barry’s mind still dwelt on the bridge incident. “If I thought,” he said, “that there was the slightest thing in that story of Jane’s about you and Steve——”