Sitting! As if it were a hen, addling its precious eggs! Round the world!
But Michael ran on:
‘It’s only today I’ve quite decided. I should feel like a deserter, and that wouldn’t be good for eimer of us in the long run. But she doesn’t know yet.’
For Soames the dove-cote was solidifying again, now that he knew Michael was not going to take her away for goodness knew how long!
‘Round the world!’ he said. ‘Why not – er – Pontresina?’
‘I think,’ answered Michael slowly, like a doctor diagnosing, ‘that she wants something dramatic. Round the world at twenty-three! She feels somehow that she’s lost caste.’
‘How can she think of leaving that little chap?’
‘Yes, that show’s it’s pretty desperate with her. I wish to goodness I could go.’
Soames stared. The young fellow wasn’t expecting him to do anything about it, was he? Round the world? A crazy notion!
‘I must see her,’ he said. ‘Can you leave that thing of yours in the garage and come up with me in the car? I’ll be ready in twenty minutes. You’ll find tea going downstairs.’
Left alone with the Fred Walker still unhung, Soames gazed at his pictures. He saw them with an added clarity, a more penetrating glance, a sort of ache in his heart, as if – Well! A good lot they were, better than he had thought, of late! She had gone in for collecting people! And now she’d lost her collection! Poor little thing! All nonsense, of course – as if there were any satisfaction in people! Suppose he took her up that Chardin? It was a good Chardin. Dumetrius had done him over the price, but not too much. And, before Chardin was finished with, he would do Dumetrius. Still – if it would give her any pleasure! He unhooked the picture and, carrying it under his arm, went downstairs.
Beyond certain allusions to the characteristics of the eleventh baronet, and the regrettable tendencies of the police to compel slow travelling over the new cut constructed to speed up traffic, little was said in the car. They arrived in South Square about six o’clock to wait for her. The Dandie, having descended to look for strange legs, had almost immediately ascended again, and the house was very quiet. Michael was continually looking at his watch.
‘Where do you think she’s got to?’ said Soames at last.
‘Haven’t an idea, sir; that’s the worst of London, it swallows people up.’
He had begun to fidget; Soames, who also wanted to fidget, was thinking of saying ‘Don’t!’ when from the window Michael cried:
‘Here she is!’ and went quickly to the door.
Soames sat on, with the Chardin resting against his chair.
They were a long time out there! Minute after minute passed, and still they did not come.
At last Michael reappeared. He looked exceedingly grave.
‘She’s in her little room upstairs, sir. I’m afraid it’s upset her awfully. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind going up.’
Soames grasped the Chardin.
‘Let’s see, that’s the first door on the left, isn’t it?’ He mounted slowly, his mind blank, and without waiting for her to answer his mild knock, went in.
Fleur was sitting at the satinwood bureau, with her face buried on her arms. Her hair, again in its more natural ‘bob’, gleamed lustrously under the light. She seemed unconscious of his entry. This sight of private life affected Soames, unaccustomed to give or receive undefended glimpses of self, and he stood, uncertain. Had he the right to surprise her, with her ears muffled like that, and her feelings all upset? He would have gone out and come in again, but he was too concerned. And, moving to her side, he put his finger on her shoulder and said:
‘Tired, my child?’
Her face came round – queer, creased, not like her face; and Soames spoke the phrase of her childhood:
‘See what I’ve brought you!’
He raised the Chardin; she gave it just a glance and he felt hurt. After all, it was worth some hundreds of pounds! Very pale, she had crossed her arms on her chest as if shutting herself up. He recognized the symptom. A spiritual crisis! The sort of thing his whole life had been passed in regarding as extravagant; like a case of appendicitis that will not wait decently.
‘Michael,’ he said, ‘tells me you want him to take you round the world.’
‘Well, he can’t; so that ends it.’
If she had said: ‘Yes, and why can’t he?’ Soames would have joined the opposition automatically. But her words roused his natural perversity. Here she was, and here was her heart’s desire – and she wasn’t getting it! He put the Chardin down and took a walk over the soft carpet.