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  Dartiewaslyingonthebedinhisdressing-room,fullyredressedinabluesergesuitandpumps;hisarmswerecrossedbehindhishead,andanextinctcigarettedroopedfromhismouth。

  Winifredrememberedridiculouslytheflowersinherwindow-boxesafterablazingsummerday;thewaytheylay,orratherstood——

  parched,yetrestedbythesun’sretreat。Itwasasifalittledewhadcomealreadyonherburnt-uphusband。

  Hesaidapathetically:”Isupposeyou’vebeentoParkLane。How’stheoldman?”

  Winifredcouldnothelpthebitteranswer:”Notdead。”

  Hewinced,actuallyhewinced。”Understand,Monty,”shesaid,”Iwillnothavehimworried。Ifyouaren’tgoingtobehaveyourself,youmaygoback,youmaygoanywhere。Haveyouhaddinner?”

  No。”Wouldyoulikesome?”

  Heshruggedhisshoulders。”Imogenofferedmesome。Ididn’twantany。”

  Imogen!IntheplenitudeofemotionWinifredhadforgottenher。”Soyou’veseenher?Whatdidshesay?””Shegavemeakiss。”

  WithmortificationWinifredsawhisdarksardonicfacerelaxed。

  ’Yes!’shethought,’hecaresforher,notformeabit。’

  Dartie’seyesweremovingfromsidetoside。”Doessheknowaboutme?”hesaid。

  ItflashedthroughWinifredthatherewastheweaponsheneeded。

  Hemindedtheirknowing!”No。Valknows。Theothersdon’t;theyonlyknowyouwentaway。”

  Sheheardhimsighwithrelief。”Buttheyshallknow,”shesaidfirmly,”ifyougivemecause。””Allright!”hemuttered,”hitme!I’mdown!”

  Winifredwentuptothebed。”Lookhere,Monty!Idon’twanttohityou。Idon’twanttohurtyou。Ishan’talludetoanything。

  I’mnotgoingtoworry。What’stheuse?”Shewassilentamoment。”Ican’tstandanymore,though,andIwon’t!You’dbetterknow。

  You’vemademesuffer。ButIusedtobefondofyou。Forthesakeofthat……”Shemettheheavy-liddedgazeofhisbrowneyeswiththedownwardstareofhergreen-greyeyes;touchedhishandsuddenly,turnedherback,andwentintoherroom。

  Shesattherealongtimebeforeherglass,fingeringherrings,thinkingofthissubdueddarkman,almostastrangertoher,onthebedintheotherroom;resolutelynot’worrying,’butgnawedbyjealousyofwhathehadbeenthrough,andnowandagainjustvisitedbypity。

  CHAPTERXIV

  OUTLANDISHNIGHT

  Soamesdoggedlyletthespringcome——noeasytaskforoneconsciousthattimewasflying,hisbirdsinthebushnonearerthehand,noissuefromthewebanywherevisible。Mr。Polteedreportednothing,exceptthathiswatchwenton——costingalotofmoney。Valandhiscousinweregonetothewar,whencecamenewsmorefavourable;

  Dartiewasbehavinghimselfsofar;Jameshadretainedhishealth;

  businessprosperedalmostterribly——therewasnothingtoworrySoamesexceptthathewas’heldup,’couldmakenostepinanydirection。

  HedidnotexactlyavoidSoho,forhecouldnotaffordtoletthemthinkthathehad’pipedoff,’asJameswouldhaveputit——hemightwantto’pipeon’againatanyminute。ButhehadtobesorestrainedandcautiousthathewouldoftenpassthedooroftheRestaurantBretagnewithoutgoingin,andwanderoutofthepurlieusofthatregionwhichalwaysgavehimthefeelingofhavingbeenpossessivelyirregular。

  HewanderedthusoneMaynightintoRegentStreetandthemostamazingcrowdhehadeverseen;ashrieking,whistling,dancing,jostling,grotesqueandformidablyjovialcrowd,withfalsenosesandmouth-organs,pennywhistlesandlongfeathers,everyappanageofidiocy,asitseemedtohim。Mafeking!Ofcourse,ithadbeenrelieved!Good!Butwasthatanexcuse?Whowerethesepeople,whatwerethey,wherehadtheycomefromintotheWestEnd?Hisfacewastickled,hisearswhistledinto。Girlscried:’Keepyourhairon,stucco!’Ayouthsoknockedoffhistop-hatthatherecovereditwithdifficulty。Crackerswereexplodingbeneathhisnose,betweenhisfeet。Hewasbewildered,exasperated,offended。

  Thisstreamofpeoplecamefromeveryquarter,asifimpulsehadunlockedflood-gates,letflowwatersofwhoseexistencehehadheard,perhaps,butbelievedinnever。This,then,wasthepopulace,theinnumerablelivingnegationofgentilityandForsyteism。Thiswas——egad!——Democracy!Itstank,yelled,washideous!IntheEastEnd,orevenSoho,perhaps——buthereinRegentStreet,inPiccadilly!Whatwere,thepoliceabout!In1900,Soames,withhisForsytethousands,hadneverseenthecauldronwiththelidoff;andnowlookingintoit,couldhardlybelievehisscorchingeyes。Thewholethingwasunspeakable!

  Thesepeoplehadnorestraint,theyseemedtothinkhimfunny;suchswarmsofthem,rude,coarse,laughing——andwhatlaughter!

  Nothingsacredtothem!Heshouldn’tbesurprisediftheybegantobreakwindows。InPallMall,pastthoseaugustdwellings,toenterwhichpeoplepaidsixtypounds,thisshrieking,whistling,dancingdervishofacrowdwasswarming。FromtheClubwindowshisownkindwerelookingoutonthemwithregulatedamusement。Theydidn’trealise!Why,thiswasserious——mightcometoanything!

  Thecrowdwascheerful,butsomedaytheywouldcomeindifferentmood!Herememberedtherehadbeenamobinthelateeighties,whenhewasatBrighton;theyhadsmashedthingsandmadespeeches。

  Butmorethandread,hefeltadeepsurprise。Theywerehysterical——itwasn’tEnglish!Andallaboutthereliefofalittletownasbigas——Watford,sixthousandmilesaway。Restraint,reserve!

  Thosequalitiestohimmoredearalmostthanlife,thoseindispensableattributesofpropertyandculture,wherewerethey?

  Itwasn’tEnglish!No,itwasn’tEnglish!SoSoamesbrooded,threadinghiswayon。Itwasasifhehadsuddenlycaughtsightofsomeonecuttingthecovenant’forquietpossession’outofhislegaldocuments;orofamonsterlurkingandstalkingoutinthefuture,castingitsshadowbefore。Theirwantofstolidity,theirwantofreverence!Itwaslikediscoveringthatnine-tenthsofthepeopleofEnglandwereforeigners。Andifthatwereso——then,anythingmighthappen!

  AtHydeParkCornerheranintoGeorgeForsyte,verysunburntfromracing,holdingafalsenoseinhishand。”Hallo,Soames!”hesaid,”haveanose!”

  Soamesrespondedwithapalesmile。”Gotthisfromoneofthesesportsmen,”wentonGeorge,whohadevidentlybeendining;”hadtolayhimout——fortryingtobashmyhat。Isay,oneofthesedaysweshallhavetofightthesechaps,they’regettingsodamnedcheeky——allradicalsandsocialists。

  Theywantourgoods。YoutellUncleJamesthat,it’llmakehimsleep。”

  ’Invinoveritas,’thoughtSoames,butheonlynodded,andpassedonupHamiltonPlace。TherewasbutatrickleofroysterersinParkLane,notverynoisy。Andlookingupatthehouseshethought:’Afterall,we’rethebackboneofthecountry。Theywon’tupsetuseasily。Possession’sninepointsofthelaw。’

  But,asheclosedthedoorofhisfather’shousebehindhim,allthatqueeroutlandishnightmareinthestreetspassedoutofhismindalmostascompletelyasif,havingdreamedit,hehadawakenedinthewarmcleanmorningcomfortofhisspring-mattressedbed。

  Walkingintothecentreofthegreatemptydrawing-room,hestoodstill。

  Awife!Somebodytotalkthingsoverwith。Onehadaright!Damnit!Onehadaright!

  PARTIII

  CHAPTERI

  SOAMESINPARIS

  Soameshadtravelledlittle。Agednineteenhehadmadethe’pettytour’withhisfather,mother,andWinifred——Brussels,theRhine,Switzerland,andhomebywayofParis。Agedtwenty-seven,justwhenhebegantotakeinterestinpictures,hehadspentfivehotweeksinItaly,lookingintotheRenaissancenotsomuchinitashehadbeenledtoexpect——andafortnightinParisonhiswayback,lookingintohimself,asbecameaForsytesurroundedbypeoplesostronglyself-centredand’foreign’astheFrench。Hisknowledgeoftheirlanguagebeingderivedfromhispublicschool,hedidnotunderstandthemwhentheyspoke。Silencehehadfoundbetterforallparties;onedidnotmakeafoolofoneself。Hehaddislikedthelookofthemen’sclothes,theclosed-incabs,thetheatreswhichlookedlikebee-hives,theGallerieswhichsmelledofbeeswax。HewastoocautiousandtooshytoexplorethatsideofParissupposedbyForsytestoconstituteitsattractionundertherose;andasforacollector’sbargain——notonetobehad!AsNicholasmighthaveputit——theywereagraspinglot。Hehadcomebackuneasy,sayingPariswasoverrated。

  When,therefore,inJuneof1900hewenttoParis,itwasbuthisthirdattemptonthecentreofcivilisation。Thistime,however,themountainwasgoingtoMahomet;forhefeltbynowmoredeeplycivilisedthanParis,andperhapshereallywas。Moreover,hehadadefiniteobjective。Thiswasnomeregenuflexiontoashrineoftasteandimmorality,buttheprosecutionofhisownlegitimateaffairs。Hewent,indeed,becausethingsweregettingpastajoke。

  Thewatchwentonandon,and——nothing——nothing!JolyonhadneverreturnedtoParis,andnooneelsewas’suspect!’Busywithnewandveryconfidentialmatters,Soameswasrealisingmorethaneverhowessentialreputationistoasolicitor。Butatnightandinhisleisuremomentshewasravagedbythethoughtthattimewasalwaysflyingandmoneyflowingin,andhisownfutureasmuch’inirons’asever。SinceMafekingnighthehadbecomeawarethata’youngfoolofadoctor’washangingroundAnnette。Twicehehadcomeacrosshim——acheerfulyoungfool,notmorethanthirty。

  NothingannoyedSoamessomuchascheerfulness——anindecent,extravagantsortofquality,whichhadnorelationtofacts。Themixtureofhisdesiresandhopeswas,inaword,becomingtorture;

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