It is so much easier to say, "Then we know where we are," than to mean
anything particular by the words. And in saying them Soames did but vent
the jealous rankling of his instincts. He got out of the cab in a state
of wary anger--with himself for not having seen Irene, with Jolyon for
having seen her; and now with his inability to tell exactly what he
wanted.
He had abandoned the cab because he could not bear to remain seated
beside his cousin, and walking briskly eastwards he thought: 'I wouldn't
trust that fellow Jolyon a yard. Once outcast, always outcast!' The chap
had a natural sympathy with--with--laxity (he had shied at the word sin,
because it was too melodramatic for use by a Forsyte).
Indecision in desire was to him a new feeling. He was like a child
between a promised toy and an old one which had been taken away from
him; and he was astonished at himself. Only last Sunday desire had
seemed simple--just his freedom and Annette. 'I'll go and dine there,'
he thought. To see her might bring back his singleness of intention,
calm his exasperation, clear his mind.
The restaurant was fairly full--a good many foreigners and folk whom,
from their appearance, he took to be literary or artistic. Scraps of
conversation came his way through the clatter of plates and glasses.
He distinctly heard the Boers sympathised with, the British Government
blamed. 'Don't think much of their clientele,' he thought. He went
stolidly through his dinner and special coffee without making his
presence known, and when at last he had finished, was careful not to
be seen going towards the sanctum of Madame Lamotte. They were, as he
entered, having supper--such a much nicer-looking supper than the dinner
he had eaten that he felt a kind of grief--and they greeted him with a
surprise so seemingly genuine that he thought with sudden suspicion:
'I believe they knew I was here all the time.' He gave Annette a look
furtive and searching. So pretty, seemingly so candid; could she be
angling for him? He turned to Madame Lamotte and said:
"I've been dining here."
Really! If she had only known! There were dishes she could have
recommended; what a pity! Soames was confirmed in his suspicion. 'I must
look out what I'm doing!' he thought sharply.
"Another little cup of very special coffee, monsieur; a liqueur, Grand
Marnier?" and Madame Lamotte rose to order these delicacies.
Alone with Annette Soames said, "Well, Annette?" with a defensive little
smile about his lips.
The girl blushed. This, which last Sunday would have set his nerves
tingling, now gave him much the same feeling a man has when a dog that
he owns wriggles and looks at him. He had a curious sense of power, as
if he could have said to her, 'Come and kiss me,' and she would have
come. And yet--it was strange--but there seemed another face and form in
the room too; and the itch in his nerves, was it for that--or for this?
He jerked his head towards the restaurant and said: "You have some queer
customers. Do you like this life?"