You are not--ashamed of me, my boy; you won't go back on me ?" In the stress and strain of his emotion the old digger's slang came readily to his lips.
Stafford took one hand from his face and held it out, and his father grasped it, clinging to it as a drowning man clings to a rock.
"God bless you, my boy!" he said.

"I might have known you wouldn't turn your back upon me; I might have known that you'd remember that I wasn't fighting for myself only, but for the son I'm so proud of." "I know, I know, sir," said Stafford, almost inaudibly.
Sir Stephen hung his hand, released it, and paced up and down the room again, fighting for composure, and facing the situation after the manner of his kind.

Like all successful adventurers, he was always ready to look on the bright side.

He came back to Stafford and patted him gently on the shoulder.
"Try and forget what I said, about--about the past, Stafford," he said.
"Let us look at the future--your future.

After all, we're not beaten! It's a compromise, it's an alliance!" His voice grew more cheerful, his eyes began to brighten with something of their wonted fire.