"Ah! You saw him further," said George amicably. "He's a real rouser.
Young Val will want a bit of looking after. I was always sorry for
Winifred. She's a plucky woman."
Again Soames nodded. "I must be getting back to her," he said; "she just
wanted to know for certain. We may have to take steps. I suppose there's
no mistake?"
"It's quite O.K.," said George--it was he who invented so many of those
quaint sayings which have been assigned to other sources. "He was drunk
as a lord last night; but he went off all right this morning. His ship's
the Tuscarora;" and, fishing out a card, he read mockingly:
"'Mr. Montague Dartie, Poste Restante, Buenos Aires.' I should hurry up
with the steps, if I were you. He fairly fed me up last night."
"Yes," said Soames; "but it's not always easy." Then, conscious from
George's eyes that he had roused reminiscence of his own affair, he got
up, and held out his hand. George rose too.
"Remember me to Winifred.... You'll enter her for the Divorce Stakes
straight off if you ask me."
Soames took a sidelong look back at him from the doorway. George had
seated himself again and was staring before him; he looked big and
lonely in those black clothes. Soames had never known him so subdued. 'I
suppose he feels it in a way,' he thought. 'They must have about fifty
thousand each, all told. They ought to keep the estate together. If
there's a war, house property will go down. Uncle Roger was a good
judge, though.' And the face of Annette rose before him in the darkening
street; her brown hair and her blue eyes with their dark lashes, her
fresh lips and cheeks, dewy and blooming in spite of London, her perfect
French figure. 'Take steps!' he thought. Re-entering Winifred's house
he encountered Val, and they went in together. An idea had occurred to
Soames. His cousin Jolyon was Irene's trustee, the first step would be
to go down and see him at Robin Hill. Robin Hill! The odd--the very odd
feeling those words brought back! Robin Hill--the house Bosinney had
built for him and Irene--the house they had never lived in--the fatal
house! And Jolyon lived there now! H'm! And suddenly he thought: 'They
say he's got a boy at Oxford! Why not take young Val down and introduce
them! It's an excuse! Less bald--very much less bald!' So, as they went
upstairs, he said to Val:
"You've got a cousin at Oxford; you've never met him. I should like to
take you down with me to-morrow to where he lives and introduce you.
You'll find it useful."