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This missile, well-directed as the spears of Homer's heroes, came full upon the bridge of Timothy's nose, and the fragile glass shivering, inflicted divers wounds upon his physiognomy, and at the same time poured forth a dark burnt-sienna-coloured balsam, to heal them, giving pain unutterable.
After Swithin had related at Timothy's the full story of his memorable drive, the same, with the least suspicion of curiosity, the merest touch of malice, and a real desire to do good, was passed on to June. "And what a dreadful thing to say, my dear!" ended Aunt Juley; "that about not going home. What did she mean?" It was a strange recital for the girl.
Francis, who had remained only in the hope that something of the sort might happen, was conscious of a queer sense of excitement when, with the service of coffee, Sir Timothy, glass in hand, moved up from a table lower down and with a word of apology took the vacant place by his side. It was what he had desired, and yet he felt a thrill almost of fear at Sir Timothy's murmured words.
Every effort at conciliation was met with the one plaint: "I want my Timfy! I want my Timfy!" At the first sight of the beloved form, Gay flung the sacred bird into the furthest corner of the room and burst into a wild sob of delight, as she threw herself into Timothy's loving arms.
Short of trailing home, there were only two places where he could go his grandfather's in Park Lane, and Timothy's in the Bayswater Road. Which was the less deplorable? At his grandfather's he would probably get a better dinner on the spur of the moment. At Timothy's they gave you a jolly good feed when they expected you, not otherwise.
Hayman was the one married Forsyte sister in a house high up on Campden Hill, shaped like a giraffe, and so tall that it gave the observer a crick in the neck; the Nicholases in Ladbroke Grove, a spacious abode and a great bargain; and last, but not least, Timothy's on the Bayswater Road, where Ann, and Juley, and Hester, lived under his protection.
"My good man," Sir Timothy said, "you seem to be one of those brutal persons unfit to be trusted with an animal. However " The carter had heard quite enough. Sir Timothy's tone seemed to madden him. He clenched his fist and rushed in. "You take that for interferin', you big toff!" he shouted. The result of the man's effort at pugilism was almost ridiculous.
Manners change and modes evolve, and "Timothy's on the Bayswater Road" becomes a nest of the unbelievable in all except essentials; we shall not look upon its like again, nor perhaps on such a one as James or Old Jolyon.
Lady Cynthia took a cigarette from her case and leaned over to Francis for a light. "The world is changing," she declared. "I cannot bear many more shocks. I fancied that I had written myself for ever out of Sir Timothy's good books because of my confession just now." He smiled across at her.
"Then why," continued Miss Asenath, smiling just a little, "do you quarrel with him so?" "I don't quarrel with him, Aunt 'Senath, dear.... Not.... Not much...." added for the sake of honesty, after thought. "I thought you all had rather a bad time at supper." "Oh, that," Arethusa tossed her head, "that was all Timothy's fault. He's.... He's just awful sometimes.
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