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Dartie sprang to his feet; grasping his glass, he muttered something about 'that 4.30 race, and swiftly withdrew to the card-room, where Soames never came. Here, in complete isolation and a dim light, he lived his own life till half past seven, by which hour he knew Soames must certainly have left the club.
They had the vote. They were "emancipated," and much good it was doing them! So Winifred would go back, would she, and put up with Dartie all over again?
"No real sportsman cares for money," he would say, borrowing a 'pony' if it was no use trying for a 'monkey. There was something delicious about Montague Dartie. He was, as George Forsyte said, a 'daisy.
He frowned, recollecting the inquiry into those stairs which he had attended in Paris six years ago, because Montague Dartie could not attend it himself perfectly normal stairs in a house where they played baccarat. Either his winnings or the way he had celebrated them had gone to his brother-in-law's head. The French procedure had been very loose; he had had a lot of trouble with it.
But, as Dartie said: There was nothing like pluck! He was by no means averse to the expedition to Richmond. He would 'stand' it himself! He cherished an admiration for Irene, and wished to be on more playful terms with her. At half-past five the Park Lane footman came round to say: Mrs. Forsyte was very sorry, but one of the horses was coughing!
He saw a face white with passion, and eyes that glared at him like a wild cat's. "Eh?" he stammered. "What? Not a bit. You take my wife!" "Get away!" hissed Bosinney "or I'll throw you into the road!" Dartie recoiled; he saw as plainly as possible that the fellow meant it. In the space he made Irene had slipped by, her dress brushed his legs. Bosinney stepped in after her.
She showed the fellow-feeling of one who had been through the mill, and was the 'femme-sole' in whom he confided, well knowing that she would not let Dartie into her confidence. That ruffian would be only too rejoiced! At the end of July, on the afternoon before the case, he went in to see her.
"They tell me at Timothy's," said Nicholas, lowering his voice, "that Dartie has gone off at last. That'll be a relief to your father. He was a rotten egg." Again Soames nodded. If there was a subject on which the Forsytes really agreed, it was the character of Montague Dartie. "You take care," said Nicholas, "or he'll turn up again. Winifred had better have the tooth out, I should say.
George looked slowly at the 'man of the world's' fattish, sallow face, and a little grim smile lurked about the curves of his cheeks and his heavy-lidded eyes. 'No, no, my fine fellow, he thought, 'I'm not going to tell you. For though he mixed with Dartie a good deal, he thought him a bit of a cad. "Oh, some little love-lady or other," he said, and chalked his cue.
"No," said Soames, "why should my sister be incommoded by his choosing to go..." "To Jericho!" said Dreamer, again coming round his corner; "quite so. People oughtn't to go to Jericho, ought they, Mrs. Dartie?" And he raised his gown into a sort of fantail. "I agree. We can go forward. Is there anything more?" "Nothing at present," said Soames meaningly; "I wanted you to see my sister."
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