Jagger had not moved. His hands still grasped the plane where his eyes also rested.
“It’s naught but what I’ve expected,” he said in a hard voice. “I’ve dreamt night after night ’at t’ money was lost, and someway I’ve never built on it. We lose fifteen pound a year interest, and we’re where we were before—on t’ Street called Straight.”
It was almost a sneer; but it was instantly atoned for, and with a quick glance at his father’s face he went on:
“Nay, I’ll say naught about it. T’ devil’s won that trick, but t’ game isn’t finished yet. I care naught about t’ money now ’at Nancy’s——”
He stopped as comprehension widened, and a new light came into his eyes.
“By Jove, it’s worth it! I never thought about Baldwin! T’ devil’s trumped after all, for Baldwin’ll be floored. I’d ha’ paid three hundred pounds wi’ pleasure to ha’ floored Baldwin!”
He chuckled with satisfaction, but the smile faded when he caught sight of his father’s face.
“Jagger!” said Maniwel almost sternly. “I’m sorry to hear a son o’ mine talk like a child o’ the devil. ‘Satan hath desired to have thee, that he may sift thee like wheat.’ But you’re a beginner, and you’ve a deal to learn. If Baldwin was to fall down Gordel and break his leg you’d none let him lie to crawl home by himself; and I’m off there now to talk things over wi’ him, if so be as he’ll let me.”
“You are?” said Jagger, with closed teeth.
“I’m off there now,” repeated his father.