"Soames did very well," he ended; "he's got his head screwed on the
right way. This won't please Jolyon. It's a bad business for that young
Bosinney; he'll go bankrupt, I shouldn't wonder," and then after a long
pause, during which he had stared disquietly into the fire, he added:
"He wasn't there--now why?"
There was a sound of footsteps. The figure of a thick-set man, with the
ruddy brown face of robust health, was seen in the back drawing-room.
The forefinger of his upraised hand was outlined against the black of
his frock coat. He spoke in a grudging voice.
"Well, James," he said, "I can't--I can't stop," and turning round, he
walked out.
It was Timothy.
James rose from his chair. "There!" he said, "there! I knew there was
something wro...." He checked himself, and was silent, staring before
him, as though he had seen a portent.