Whether Annette had produced the revolution in his outlook, or that

outlook had produced Annette, he knew no more than we know where a

circle begins. It was intricate and deeply involved with the growing

consciousness that property without anyone to leave it to is the

negation of true Forsyteism. To have an heir, some continuance of self,

who would begin where he left off--ensure, in fact, that he would not

leave off--had quite obsessed him for the last year and more. After

buying a bit of Wedgwood one evening in April, he had dropped into Malta

Street to look at a house of his father's which had been turned into a

restaurant--a risky proceeding, and one not quite in accordance with the

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terms of the lease. He had stared for a little at the outside painted

a good cream colour, with two peacock-blue tubs containing little

bay-trees in a recessed doorway--and at the words 'Restaurant Bretagne'

above them in gold letters, rather favourably impressed. Entering, he

had noticed that several people were already seated at little round

green tables with little pots of fresh flowers on them and Brittany-ware

plates, and had asked of a trim waitress to see the proprietor. They had

shown him into a back room, where a girl was sitting at a simple bureau

covered with papers, and a small round, table was laid for two. The

impression of cleanliness, order, and good taste was confirmed when

the girl got up, saying, "You wish to see Maman, Monsieur?" in a broken

accent.

"Yes," Soames had answered, "I represent your landlord; in fact, I'm his

son."

"Won't you sit down, sir, please? Tell Maman to come to this gentleman."

He was pleased that the girl seemed impressed, because it showed

business instinct; and suddenly he noticed that she was remarkably

pretty--so remarkably pretty that his eyes found a difficulty in leaving

her face. When she moved to put a chair for him, she swayed in a curious

subtle way, as if she had been put together by someone with a special

secret skill; and her face and neck, which was a little bared, looked

as fresh as if they had been sprayed with dew. Probably at this moment

Soames decided that the lease had not been violated; though to himself

and his father he based the decision on the efficiency of those illicit

adaptations in the building, on the signs of prosperity, and the obvious

business capacity of Madame Lamotte. He did not, however, neglect to

leave certain matters to future consideration, which had necessitated

further visits, so that the little back room had become quite accustomed

to his spare, not unsolid, but unobtrusive figure, and his pale, chinny

face with clipped moustache and dark hair not yet grizzling at the

sides.




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