The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

"And Soames was with her?" said Aunt Hester, to whom Mrs. Small had as

yet had no opportunity of relating the incident.

"Soames with her? Of course not!"

"But was she all alone in London?"

"Oh, no; there was Mr. Bosinney with her. She was perfectly dressed."

But Swithin, hearing the name Irene, looked severely at Euphemia, who,

it is true, never did look well in a dress, whatever she may have done

on other occasions, and said:

"Dressed like a lady, I've no doubt. It's a pleasure to see her."

At this moment James and his daughters were announced. Dartie, feeling

badly in want of a drink, had pleaded an appointment with his dentist,

and, being put down at the Marble Arch, had got into a hansom, and was

already seated in the window of his club in Piccadilly.

His wife, he told his cronies, had wanted to take him to pay some calls.

It was not in his line--not exactly. Haw!

Hailing the waiter, he sent him out to the hall to see what had won

the 4.30 race. He was dog-tired, he said, and that was a fact; had been

drivin' about with his wife to 'shows' all the afternoon. Had put his

foot down at last. A fellow must live his own life.

At this moment, glancing out of the bay window--for he loved this seat

whence he could see everybody pass--his eye unfortunately, or perhaps

fortunately, chanced to light on the figure of Soames, who was mousing

across the road from the Green Park-side, with the evident intention of

coming in, for he, too, belonged to 'The Iseeum.'

Dartie sprang to his feet; grasping his glass, he muttered something

about 'that 4.30 race,' and swiftly withdrew to the card-room, where

Soames never came. Here, in complete isolation and a dim light, he lived

his own life till half past seven, by which hour he knew Soames must

certainly have left the club.

It would not do, as he kept repeating to himself whenever he felt the

impulse to join the gossips in the bay-window getting too strong for

him--it absolutely would not do, with finances as low as his, and the

'old man' (James) rusty ever since that business over the oil shares,

which was no fault of his, to risk a row with Winifred.

If Soames were to see him in the club it would be sure to come round to

her that he wasn't at the dentist's at all. He never knew a family where

things 'came round' so. Uneasily, amongst the green baize card-tables,

a frown on his olive coloured face, his check trousers crossed, and

patent-leather boots shining through the gloom, he sat biting his

forefinger, and wondering where the deuce he was to get the money if

Erotic failed to win the Lancashire Cup.