His step was springy, his lips were puckered, he was whistling blithely when he emerged, for at last those vaguely outlined plans that had been at the back of his mind had assumed form and pattern.

His luck had turned, he had made a new start.
Mallow was indeed a crook, and Gray blessed the prompt good fortune that had thrown both him and Coverly in his way.
It had been a busy day; he was well content with its fruitage..