The fellow was sharper than he had thought, and better-looking than he
had hoped. He had a--a 'don't care' appearance that James, to whom risk
was the most intolerable thing in life, did not appreciate; a peculiar
smile, too, coming when least expected; and very queer eyes. He reminded
James, as he said afterwards, of a hungry cat. This was as near as he
could get, in conversation with Emily, to a description of the peculiar
exasperation, velvetiness, and mockery, of which Bosinney's manner had
been composed.
At last, having seen all that was to be seen, he came out again at the
door where he had gone in; and now, feeling that he was wasting time and
strength and money, all for nothing, he took the courage of a Forsyte in
both hands, and, looking sharply at Bosinney, said:
"I dare say you see a good deal of my daughter-in-law; now, what does
she think of the house? But she hasn't seen it, I suppose?"
This he said, knowing all about Irene's visit not, of course, that there
was anything in the visit, except that extraordinary remark she had made
about 'not caring to get home'--and the story of how June had taken the
news!
He had determined, by this way of putting the question, to give Bosinney
a chance, as he said to himself.
The latter was long in answering, but kept his eyes with uncomfortable
steadiness on James.
"She has seen the house, but I can't tell you what she thinks of it."
Nervous and baffled, James was constitutionally prevented from letting
the matter drop.
"Oh!" he said, "she has seen it? Soames brought her down, I suppose?"
Bosinney smilingly replied: "Oh, no!"
"What, did she come down alone?"
"Oh, no!"
"Then--who brought her?"
"I really don't know whether I ought to tell you who brought her."
To James, who knew that it was Swithin, this answer appeared
incomprehensible.
"Why!" he stammered, "you know that...." but he stopped, suddenly
perceiving his danger.
"Well," he said, "if you don't want to tell me I suppose you won't!
Nobody tells me anything."
Somewhat to his surprise Bosinney asked him a question.
"By the by," he said, "could you tell me if there are likely to be any
more of you coming down? I should like to be on the spot!"
"Any more?" said James bewildered, "who should there be more? I don't
know of any more. Good-bye?"
Looking at the ground he held out his hand, crossed the palm of it with
Bosinney's, and taking his umbrella just above the silk, walked away
along the terrace.
Before he turned the corner he glanced back, and saw Bosinney following
him slowly--'slinking along the wall' as he put it to himself, 'like a
great cat.' He paid no attention when the young fellow raised his hat.