Descending into the hollow, he poked about with his
umbrella. One must admit at least acontinuity of purpose somewhere.
But ifhe got up to see he would certainly begin to
worry again, and hedidnt want to. The door was opened bya red-cheeked
girl.
Something inthat slow, strong movement affected
Soames. I supposeyou get a lot of Americans, fishing for ancestors? But why did you
make him sit, while she was coming here?
He sent up a message presently thatthe car was
ready. Not the equal of the air on Great Forsyte,but more of the earth, more
cosy.
If only shewould cry, and blurt everything out!
Perhaps you could send me theBere entries, too, for an inclusive seven guineas?
Hewanted her to break down, and he didnt want her to.
With chin uplifted, he contemplated the arches and
theglass. Never had he breathed anything quite like that air; or so, atleast, it
seemed to him.
The idea of being overlooked whileinspecting his
roots was unpleasant to him. He wouldnt behungry till he knew the
worst.
She shrugged her shoulders and passed him into the
house.
Soames took some deepbreaths, savouring it, as one
might an old wine.
But not this time would he have to beg that woman
to let herson belong to his daughter?
And, getting up, Soames descended once more into
the hollow. He himself went again to the openwindow, and stood watching the
moonlight. What more didyou do now that brought you any satisfaction?