A sealed letter in the handwriting of Mr. Polteed remained unopened
in Soames' pocket throughout two hours of sustained attention to the
affairs of the 'New Colliery Company,' which, declining almost from the
moment of old Jolyon's retirement from the Chairmanship, had lately run
down so fast that there was now nothing for it but a 'winding-up.' He
took the letter out to lunch at his City Club, sacred to him for the
meals he had eaten there with his father in the early seventies, when
James used to like him to come and see for himself the nature of his
future life.
Here in a remote corner before a plate of roast mutton and mashed
potato, he read:
"DEAR SIR,
"In accordance with your suggestion we have duly taken the matter up at
the other end with gratifying results. Observation of 47 has enabled us
to locate 17 at the Green Hotel, Richmond. The two have been observed
to meet daily during the past week in Richmond Park. Nothing absolutely
crucial has so far been notified. But in conjunction with what we had
from Paris at the beginning of the year, I am confident we could now
satisfy the Court. We shall, of course, continue to watch the matter
until we hear from you.
"Very faithfully yours,
"CLAUD POLTEED."
Soames read it through twice and beckoned to the waiter:
"Take this away; it's cold."
"Shall I bring you some more, sir?"
"No. Get me some coffee in the other room."
And, paying for what he had not eaten, he went out, passing two
acquaintances without sign of recognition.
'Satisfy the Court!' he thought, sitting at a little round marble
table with the coffee before him. That fellow Jolyon! He poured out his
coffee, sweetened and drank it. He would disgrace him in the eyes of his
own children! And rising, with that resolution hot within him, he found
for the first time the inconvenience of being his own solicitor. He
could not treat this scandalous matter in his own office. He must commit
the soul of his private dignity to a stranger, some other professional
dealer in family dishonour. Who was there he could go to? Linkman and
Laver in Budge Row, perhaps--reliable, not too conspicuous, only nodding
acquaintances. But before he saw them he must see Polteed again. But
at this thought Soames had a moment of sheer weakness. To part with his
secret? How find the words? How subject himself to contempt and secret
laughter? Yet, after all, the fellow knew already--oh yes, he knew! And,
feeling that he must finish with it now, he took a cab into the West
End.