dly left the Court; without waiting for his
son, he snapped up a hansom cab (it was a clear, grey afternoon) and
drove straight to Timothy's where he found Swithin; and to him, Mrs.
Septimus Small, and Aunt Hester, he recounted the whole proceedings,
eating two muffins not altogether in the intervals of speech.

"Soames did very well," he ended; "he's got his head screwed on the right
way. This won't please Jolyon. It's a bad business for that young
Bosinney; he'll go bankrupt, I shouldn't wonder," and then after a long
pause, during which he had stared disquietly into the fire, he added:

"He wasn't there--now why?"

There was a sound of footsteps. The figure of a thick-set man, with the
ruddy brown face of robust health, was seen in the back drawing-room.
The forefinger of his upraised hand was outlined against the black of his
frock coat. He spoke in a grudging voice.

"Well, James," he said, "I can't--I can't stop," and turning round, he
walked out.

It was Timothy.

James rose from his chair. "There!" he said, "there! I knew there was
something wro...." He checked himself, and was silent, staring before
him, as though he had seen a portent.

CHAPTER VI

SOAMES BREAKS THE NEWS

In leaving the Court Soames did not go straight home. He felt
disinclined for the City, and drawn by need for sympathy in his triumph,
he, too, made his way, but slowly and on foot, to Timothy's in the
Bayswater Road.

His father had just left; Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester, in possession of
the whole story, greeted him warmly. They were sure he was hungry after
all that evidence. Smither should toast him some more muffins, his dear
father had eaten them all. He must put his legs up on the sofa; and he
must have a glass of prune brandy too. It was so strengthening.

Swithin was still present, having lingered later than his wont, for he
felt in want of exercise. On hearing this suggestion, he 'pished.' A
pretty pass young men were coming to! His own liver was out of order,
and he could not bear the thought of anyone else drinking prune brandy.

He went away almost immediately, saying to Soames: "And how's your wife?
You tell her from me that if she's dull, and likes to come and dine with
me quietly, I'll give her such a bottle of champagne as she doesn't get
every day." Staring down from his height on Soames he contracted his
thick, puffy, yellow hand as though squeezing within it all this small
fry, and throwi