A few days later, coming unexpectedly, Kent found Jenny in earnest conversation with her brother, who had quite regained his jaunty air, and betrayed no false shame at Basil’s knowledge of his escapade.
“Well met, ’Oratio!” he cried, holding out his hand. “I just come in on the chance of seeing you. I wanted to thank you for that loan.”
“I’d rather you didn’t speak of it.”
“Why, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I ’ad a bit of bad luck, that’s all. I’ll pay you back, you know. You needn’t fear about that.”
He gave a voluble account of the affair, proving how misfortune may befall the deserving, and what a criminal complexion the most innocent acts may wear. Basil, against his will admiring the fellow’s jocose effrontery, listened with chilling silence.
“You need not excuse yourself,” he said at length. “My reasons for helping you were purely selfish. Except for Jenny, it would have been a matter of complete indifference to me if you had been sent to prison or not.”
“Oh, that was all kid. They wouldn’t have prosecuted. Don’t I tell you they had no case. You believe me, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“What d’you mean by that?” asked James, angrily.
“We won’t discuss it.”