The Forsyte Saga - Volume 2 - Page 132/238

"Entirely," said Mr. Polteed, appearing suddenly between him and the

door. "I shall be seeing you in that other case before long. Good

morning, sir." His eyes slid unprofessionally over Soames once more, and

he unlocked the door.

"Good morning," said Soames, looking neither to right nor left.

Out in the street he swore deeply, quietly, to himself. A spider's

web, and to cut it he must use this spidery, secret, unclean method,

so utterly repugnant to one who regarded his private life as his most

sacred piece of property. But the die was cast, he could not go back.

And he went on into the Poultry, and locked away the green morocco case

and the key to that cipher destined to make crystal-clear his domestic

bankruptcy.

Odd that one whose life was spent in bringing to the public eye all the

private coils of property, the domestic disagreements of others, should

dread so utterly the public eye turned on his own; and yet not odd,

for who should know so well as he the whole unfeeling process of legal

regulation.

He worked hard all day. Winifred was due at four o'clock; he was to take

her down to a conference in the Temple with Dreamer Q.C., and waiting

for her he re-read the letter he had caused her to write the day of

Dartie's departure, requiring him to return.

"DEAR MONTAGUE,

"I have received your letter with the news that you have left me for

ever and are on your way to Buenos Aires. It has naturally been a great

shock. I am taking this earliest opportunity of writing to tell you

that I am prepared to let bygones be bygones if you will return to me

at once. I beg you to do so. I am very much upset, and will not say any

more now. I am sending this letter registered to the address you left at

your Club. Please cable to me.

"Your still affectionate wife,

"WINIFRED DARTIE."

Ugh! What bitter humbug! He remembered leaning over Winifred while she

copied what he had pencilled, and how she had said, laying down her pen,

"Suppose he comes, Soames!" in such a strange tone of voice, as if she

did not know her own mind. "He won't come," he had answered, "till he's

spent his money. That's why we must act at once." Annexed to the copy of

that letter was the original of Dartie's drunken scrawl from the Iseeum

Club. Soames could have wished it had not been so manifestly penned in

liquor. Just the sort of thing the Court would pitch on. He seemed to

hear the Judge's voice say: "You took this seriously! Seriously enough

to write him as you did? Do you think he meant it?" Never mind! The fact

was clear that Dartie had sailed and had not returned. Annexed also was

his cabled answer: "Impossible return. Dartie." Soames shook his head.

If the whole thing were not disposed of within the next few months the

fellow would turn up again like a bad penny. It saved a thousand a year

at least to get rid of him, besides all the worry to Winifred and his

father. 'I must stiffen Dreamer's back,' he thought; 'we must push it

on.'