"Pity,"he said,"quite a pity!That other affair seemed very costive."Soames rose.
"Never mind that.Please watch 47,and take care not to find a mare's nest.Good-morning!"Mr.Polteed's eye glinted at the words 'mare's nest!'
"Very good.You shall be kept informed."
And Soames was alone again.The spidery,dirty,ridiculous business!Laying his arms on the table,he leaned his forehead on them.Full ten minutes he rested thus,till a managing clerk roused him with the draft prospectus of a new issue of shares,very desirable,in Manifold and Topping's.That afternoon he left work early and made his way to the Restaurant Bretagne.Only Madame Lamotte was in.Would Monsieur have tea with her?
Soames bowed.
When they were seated at right angles to each other in the little room,he said abruptly "I want a talk with you,Madame."The quick lift of her clear brown eyes told him that she had long expected such words.
"I have to ask you something first:That young doctor--what's his name?Is there anything between him and Annette?"Her whole personality had become,as it were,like jet--clear-cut,black,hard,shining.
"Annette is young,"she said;"so is monsieur le docteur.Between young people things move quickly;but Annette is a good daughter.
Ah!what a jewel of a nature!"
The least little smile twisted Soames'lips.
"Nothing definite,then?"
"But definite--no,indeed!The young man is veree nice,but--what would you?There is no money at present."She raised her willow-patterned tea-cup;Soames did the same.
Their eyes met.
"I am a married man,"he said,"living apart from my wife for many years.I am seeking to divorce her."Madame Lamotte put down her cup.Indeed!What tragic things there were!The entire absence of sentiment in her inspired a queer species of contempt in Soames.
"I am a rich man,"he added,fully conscious that the remark was not in good taste."It is useless to say more at present,but Ithink you understand."
Madame's eyes,so open that the whites showed above them,looked at him very straight.
"Ah!ca--mais nous avons le temps!"was all she said."Another little cup?"Soames refused,and,taking his leave,walked westward.
He had got that off his mind;she would not let Annette commit herself with that cheerful young ass until.!But what chance of his ever being able to say:'I'm free.'What chance?The future had lost all semblance of reality.He felt like a fly,entangled in cobweb filaments,watching the desirable ******* of the air with pitiful eyes.
He was short of exercise,and wandered on to Kensington Gardens,and down Queen's Gate towards Chelsea.Perhaps she had gone back to her flat.That at all events he could find out.For since that last and most ignominious repulse his wounded self-respect had taken refuge again in the feeling that she must have a lover.He arrived before the little Mansions at the dinner-hour.No need to enquire!A grey-haired lady was watering the flower-boxes in her window.It was evidently let.And he walked slowly past again,along the river--an evening of clear,quiet beauty,all harmony and comfort,except within his heart.