“Oh, he wouldn’t give me any money, and I haven’t a _sou_ of my own,” she said lightly, laughing it off. “You wouldn’t be short of money,” said Jack. “Plenty of money.” “You see I couldn’t just live on charity, could I?” she replied, delicately. “It wouldn’t be charity.” “What then?” There was a very awkward pause. Then a wicked redness came into Jack’s face, and a flicker into his voice. “Appreciation. You’d be appreciated.” He seemed to speak with muted lips. There was a cold silence. Harriet was offended now. “I’ll just clear the table,” she said, rising briskly. Jack sat rather slack in his chair, his long, malevolent body half sunk, and his chin dropped. “What boat do you think you’ll catch?” he asked. “The Manganui. Why?” But Jack did not speak. He sat there with his head sunk on his chin, his body half-turgid, as if he were really not quite sober. “You won’t be honouring Australia long with your presence,” he said ironically. “Nor dishonouring it,” said Richard. He was like a creature that is going to escape. Some of the fear he had felt for Kangaroo he now felt for Jack. Jack was really very malevolent. There was hell in his reddened face, and in his black, inchoate eyes, and in his long, pent-up body. But he kept an air of quiescence, of resignation, as if he were still really benevolent. “Oh, I don’t say that,” he remarked in answer to Richard’s last, but in a tone which said so plainly what he felt: an insulting tone. Said Richard to himself: “I wouldn’t like to fall into your clutches, my friend, altogether: or to give your benevolence a chance to condemn me.” Aloud, he said to Jack: “If I can’t join in with what you’re doing here, heart and soul, I’d better take myself off, hadn’t I? You’ve all been good to me, and in a measure, trusted me. I shall always owe you a debt of gratitude, and keep your trust inviolable. You know that. But I am one of those who must stand and wait--though I don’t pretend that by so doing I also serve.” “You take no risks,” said Jack quietly. Another home-thrust. “Why--I would take risks--if only I felt it was any good.” “What does it matter about it’s being any good? You can’t tell what good a thing will be or won’t be. All you can do is to take a bet on it.” “You see it isn’t my nature to bet.” “Not a sporting nature, you mean?” “No, not a sporting nature.” “Like a woman--you like to feel safe all round,” said Jack, slowly raising his dark eyes to Somers in a faint smile of contempt and malevolence. And Richard had to acknowledge to himself that he _was_ cutting a poor figure: nosing in, like a Mr Nosy Parker, then drawing back quickly if he saw two sparks fly. “Do you think I’ve let you down? I never pledged myself,” he said coldly. “Oh, no, you never pledged yourself,” said Jack laconically. “You see I don’t _believe_ in these things,” said Somers, flushing. “What’s that you don’t believe in?”