Soames looked. In spite of himself, something swelled in his breast.
To live here in sight of all this, to be able to point it out to his
friends, to talk of it, to possess it! His cheeks flushed. The warmth,
the radiance, the glow, were sinking into his senses as, four years
before, Irene's beauty had sunk into his senses and made him long
for her. He stole a glance at Bosinney, whose eyes, the eyes of the
coachman's 'half-tame leopard,' seemed running wild over the landscape.
The sunlight had caught the promontories of the fellow's face, the bumpy
cheekbones, the point of his chin, the vertical ridges above his brow;
and Soames watched this rugged, enthusiastic, careless face with an
unpleasant feeling.
A long, soft ripple of wind flowed over the corn, and brought a puff of
warm air into their faces.
"I could build you a teaser here," said Bosinney, breaking the silence
at last.
"I dare say," replied Soames, drily. "You haven't got to pay for it."
"For about eight thousand I could build you a palace."
Soames had become very pale--a struggle was going on within him. He
dropped his eyes, and said stubbornly:
"I can't afford it."
And slowly, with his mousing walk, he led the way back to the first
site.
They spent some time there going into particulars of the projected
house, and then Soames returned to the agent's cottage.
He came out in about half an hour, and, joining Bosinney, started for
the station.
"Well," he said, hardly opening his lips, "I've taken that site of
yours, after all."
And again he was silent, confusedly debating how it was that this
fellow, whom by habit he despised, should have overborne his own
decision.