III

When at last Swithin reached the Goldene Alp, he found his brother and
friend standing uneasily at the door. Traquair, a prematurely dried-up
man, with whiskers and a Scotch accent, remarked, "Ye're airly, man!"
Swithin growled something unintelligible, and swung up to bed. He
discovered a slight cut on his arm. He was in a savage temper--the
elements had conspired to show him things he did not want to see; yet now
and then a memory of Rozsi, of her soft palm in his, a sense of having
been stroked and flattered, came over him. During breakfast next morning
his brother and Traquair announced their intention of moving on. James
Forsyte, indeed, remarked that it was no place for a "collector," since
all the "old" shops were in the hands of Jews or very grasping
persons--he had discovered this at once. Swithin pushed his cup aside.
"You may do what you like," he said, "I'm staying here."

James Forsyte replied, tumbling over his own words: "Why! what do you
want to stay here for? There's nothing for you to do here--there's
nothing to see here, unless you go up the Citadel, an' you won't do
that."

Swithin growled, "Who says so?" Having gratified his perversity, he felt
in a better temper. He had slung his arm in a silk sash, and accounted
for it by saying he had slipped. Later he went out and walked on to the
bridge. In the brilliant sunshine spires were glistening against the
pearly background of the hills; the town had a clean, joyous air. Swithin
glanced at the Citadel and thought, 'Looks a strong place! Shouldn't
wonder if it were impregnable!' And this for some occult reason gave him
pleasure. It occurred to him suddenly to go and look for the Hungarian's
house.

About noon, after a hunt of two hours, he was gazing about him blankly,
pale with heat, but more obstinate than ever, when a voice above him
called, "Mister!" He looked up and saw Rozsi. She was leaning her round
chin on her round hand, gazing down at him with her deepset, clever eyes.
When Swithin removed his hat, she clapped her hands. Again he had the
sense of being admired, caressed. With a careless air, that sat
grotesquely on his tall square person, he walked up to the door; both
girls stood in the passage. Swithin felt a confused desire to speak in
some foreign tongue. "Maam'selles," he began, "er--bong jour-er, your
father--pare, comment?"

"We also speak English," said the elder girl; "will you come in, please?"