andlatelythethoughthadcometohimthatperhapsIreneknewshewasbeingshadowed：Itwasthiswhichfinallydecidedhimtogoandseeforhimself；togoandoncemoretrytobreakdownherrepugnance，herrefusaltomakeherownandhispathcomparativelysmoothoncemore。Ifhefailedagain——well，hewouldseewhatshedidwithherself，anyway！
HewenttoanhotelintheRueCaumartin，highlyrecommendedtoForsytes，wherepracticallynobodyspokeFrench。Hehadformednoplan。Hedidnotwanttostartleher；yetmustcontrivethatshehadnochancetoevadehimbyflight。Andnextmorninghesetoutinbrightweather。
Parishadanairofgaiety，asparkleoveritsstar-shapewhichalmostannoyedSoames。Hesteppedgravely，hisnoseliftedalittlesidewaysinrealcuriosity。HedesirednowtounderstandthingsFrench。WasnotAnnetteFrench?Therewasmuchtobegotoutofhisvisit，ifhecouldonlygetit。InthislaudablemoodandthePlacedelaConcordehewasnearlyrundownthreetimes。
Hecameonthe’CourslaReine，’whereIrene’shotelwassituated，almosttoosuddenly，forhehadnotyetfixedonhisprocedure。
Crossingovertotheriverside，henotedthebuilding，whiteandcheerful-looking，withgreensunblinds，seenthroughascreenofplane-treeleaves。And，consciousthatitwouldbefarbettertomeethercasuallyinsomeopenplacethantoriskacall，hesatdownonabenchwhencehecouldwatchtheentrance。Itwasnotquiteeleveno’clock，andimprobablethatshehadyetgoneout。
Somepigeonswerestruttingandpreeningtheirfeathersinthepoolsofsunlightbetweentheshadowsoftheplane-trees。A
workmaninablueblousepassed，andthrewthemcrumbsfromthepaperwhichcontainedhisdinner。A’bonne’coiffedwithribbonshepherdedtwolittlegirlswithpig-tailsandfrilleddrawers。A
cabmeanderedby，whosecocherworeabluecoatandablack-glazedhat。ToSoamesakindofaffectationseemedtoclingaboutitall，asortofpicturesquenesswhichwasoutofdate。Atheatricalpeople，theFrench！Helitoneofhisrarecigarettes，withasenseofinjurythatFateshouldbecastinghislifeintoout-
landishwaters。Heshouldn’twonderifIrenequiteenjoyedthisforeignlife；shehadneverbeenproperlyEnglish——eventolookat！
Andhebeganconsideringwhichofthosewindowscouldbehersunderthegreensunblinds。Howcouldhewordwhathehadcometosaysothatitmightpiercethedefenceofherproudobstinacy?Hethrewthefag-endofhiscigaretteatapigeon，withthethought：’I
can’tstayhereforevertwiddlingmythumbs。Bettergiveitupandcallonherinthelateafternoon。’Buthestillsaton，heardtwelvestrike，andthenhalf-past。’I’llwaittillone，’hethought，’whileI’maboutit。’Butjustthenhestartedup，andshrinkinglysatdownagain。Awomanhadcomeoutinacream-
colouredfrock，andwasmovingawayunderafawn-colouredparasol。
Ireneherself！Hewaitedtillshewastoofarawaytorecognisehim，thensetoutafterher。Shewasstrollingasthoughshehadnoparticularobjective；moving，ifherememberedrightly，towardtheBoisdeBoulogne。ForhalfanhouratleasthekepthisdistanceonthefarsideofthewaytillshehadpassedintotheBoisitself。Wasshegoingtomeetsomeoneafterall?SomeconfoundedFrenchman——oneofthose’BelAmi’chaps，perhaps，whohadnothingtodobuthangaboutwomen——forhehadreadthatbookwithdifficultyandasortofdisgustedfascination。Hefolloweddoggedlyalongashadyalley，losingsightofhernowandthenwhenthepathcurved。Anditcamebacktohimhow，longago，onenightinHydeParkhehadslidandsneakedfromtreetotree，fromseattoseat，huntingblindly，ridiculously，inburningjealousyforherandyoungBosinney。Thepathbentsharply，and，hurrying，hecameonhersittinginfrontofasmallfountain——alittlegreen-bronzeNiobeveiledinhairtoherslenderhips，gazingatthepoolshehadwept：Hecameonhersosuddenlythathewaspastbeforehecouldturnandtakeoffhishat。Shedidnotstartup。Shehadalwayshadgreatself-command——itwasoneofthethingshemostadmiredinher，oneofhisgreatestgrievancesagainsther，becausehehadneverbeenabletotellwhatshewasthinking。Hadsherealisedthathewasfollowing?Herself-possessionmadehimangry；and，disdainingtoexplainhispresence，hepointedtothemournfullittleNiobe，andsaid：”That’sratheragoodthing。”
Hecouldsee，then，thatshewasstrugglingtopreservehercomposure。”Ididn’twanttostartleyou；isthisoneofyourhaunts?””Yes。””Alittlelonely。”Ashespoke，alady，strollingby，pausedtolookatthefountainandpassedon。
Irene’seyesfollowedher。”No，”shesaid，proddingthegroundwithherparasol，”neverlonely。Onehasalwaysone’sshadow。”
Soamesunderstood；and，lookingatherhard，heexclaimed：”Well，it’syourownfault。Youcanbefreeofitatanymoment。
Irene，comebacktome，andbefree。”
Irenelaughed。”Don’t！”criedSoames，stampinghisfoot；”it’sinhuman。Listen！
IsthereanyconditionIcanmakewhichwillbringyoubacktome?
IfIpromiseyouaseparatehouse——andjustavisitnowandthen?”
Irenerose，somethingwildsuddenlyinherfaceandfigure。”None！None！None！Youmayhuntmetothegrave。Iwillnotcome。”
Outragedandonedge，Soamesrecoiled。”Don’tmakeascene！”hesaidsharply。Andtheybothstoodmotionless，staringatthelittleNiobe，whosegreenishfleshthesunlightwasburnishing。”That’syourlastword，then，”mutteredSoames，clenchinghishands；”youcondemnusboth。”
Irenebentherhead。”Ican’tcomeback。Good-bye！”
AfeelingofmonstrousinjusticeflaredupinSoames。”Stop！”hesaid，”andlistentomeamoment。Yougavemeasacredvow——youcametomewithoutapenny。YouhadallIcouldgiveyou。
Youbrokethatvowwithoutcause，youmademeaby-word；yourefusedmeachild；you’veleftmeinprison；you——youstillmovemesothatIwantyou——Iwantyou。Well，whatdoyouthinkofyourself?”
Ireneturned，herfacewasdeadlypale，hereyesburningdark。”GodmademeasIam，”shesaid；”wickedifyoulike——butnotsowickedthatI’llgivemyselfagaintoamanIhate。”
Thesunlightgleamedonherhairasshemovedaway，andseemedtolayacaressalldownherclingingcream-colouredfrock。
Soamescouldneitherspeaknormove。Thatword’hate’——soextreme，soprimitive——madealltheForsyteinhimtremble。Withadeepimprecationhestrodeawayfromwhereshehadvanished，andranalmostintothearmsoftheladysaunteringback——thefool，theshadowingfool！
Hewassoondrippingwithperspiration，inthedepthsoftheBois。
’Well，’hethought，’Ineedhavenoconsiderationforhernow；shehasnotagrainofitforme。I’llshowherthisverydaythatshe’smywifestill。’
Butonthewayhometohishotel，hewasforcedtotheconclusionthathedidnotknowwhathemeant。Onecouldnotmakescenesinpublic，andshortofscenesinpublicwhatwastherehecoulddo?
Healmostcursedhisownthin-skinnedness。Shemightdeservenoconsideration；buthe——alas！deservedsomeathisownhands。Andsittinglunchlessinthehallofhishotel，withtouristspassingeverymoment，Baedekerinhand，hewasvisitedbyblackdejection。
Inirons！Hiswholelife，witheverynaturalinstinctandeverydecentyearninggaggedandfettered，andallbecauseFatehaddrivenhimseventeenyearsagotosethisheartuponthiswoman——soutterly，thatevennowhehadnorealhearttosetonanyother！
Cursedwasthedayhehadmether，andhiseyesforseeinginheranythingbutthecruelVenusshewas！Andyet，stillseeingherwiththesunlightontheclingingChinacrepeofhergown，heutteredalittlegroan，sothatatouristwhowaspassing，thought：
’Maninpain！Let’ssee！whatdidIhaveforlunch?’
Later，infrontofacafeneartheOpera，overaglassofcoldteawithlemonandastrawinit，hetookthemaliciousresolutiontogoanddineatherhotel。Ifshewerethere，hewouldspeaktoher；ifshewerenot，hewouldleaveanote。Hedressedcarefully，andwroteasfollows：”YouridyllwiththatfellowJolyonForsyteisknowntomeatallevents。Ifyoupursueit，understandthatIwillleavenostoneunturnedtomakethingsunbearableforhim。”S。F。”
Hesealedthisnotebutdidnotaddressit，refusingtowritethemaidennamewhichshehadimpudentlyresumed，ortoputthewordForsyteontheenvelopelestsheshouldtearitupunread。Thenhewentout，andmadehiswaythroughtheglowingstreets，abandonedtoeveningpleasure-seekers。Enteringherhotel，hetookhisseatinafarcornerofthedining-roomwhencehecouldseeallentrancesandexits。Shewasnotthere。Heatelittle，quickly，watchfully。Shedidnotcome。Helingeredintheloungeoverhiscoffee，dranktwoliqueursofbrandy。Butstillshedidnotcome。
Hewentovertothekeyboardandexaminedthenames。Numbertwelve，onthefirstfloor！Andhedeterminedtotakethenoteuphimself。Hemountedred-carpetedstairs，pastalittlesalon；
eight-ten-twelve！Shouldheknock，pushthenoteunder，or……?
Helookedfurtivelyroundandturnedthehandle。Thedooropened，butintoalittlespaceleadingtoanotherdoor；heknockedonthat——noanswer。Thedoorwaslocked。Itfittedverycloselytothefloor；thenotewouldnotgounder。Hethrustitbackintohispocket，andstoodamomentlistening。Hefeltsomehowcertainthatshewasnotthere。Andsuddenlyhecameaway，passingthelittlesalondownthestairs。Hestoppedatthebureauandsaid：