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Updated: May 7, 2025
Also, it had not that expression of faint happiness which on that day was discernible, yes, in Soames's countenance. Fame had breathed on him. Twice again in the course of the month I went to the New English, and on both occasions Soames himself was on view there. Looking back, I regard the close of that exhibition as having been virtually the close of his career.
She was too near a breakdown to care what she told him. "We dined at Soames's." "H'm! the man of property! His wife there and Bosinney?" "Yes." Old Jolyon's glance was fixed on her with the penetrating gaze from which it was difficult to hide; but she was not looking at him, and when she turned her face, he dropped his scrutiny at once. He had seen enough, and too much.
She was an old woman who thought all evil of those she did not know, and all good of those whom she did know; and as she did know Mr Crawley, she was quite sure that he had not stolen Mr Soames's twenty pounds. She did know Mr Soames also; and thus there was a mystery for the unravelling of which she was very anxious.
After all, I reassured myself, London was a very large place, and one very dim figure might easily drop out of it unobserved, now especially, in the blinding glare of the near Jubilee. Better say nothing at all, I thought. AND I was right. Soames's disappearance made no stir at all. He was utterly forgotten before any one, so far as I am aware, noticed that he was no longer hanging around.
"I wouldn't mind having it myself," he added; "you can always get your price for old lacquer." "You're so clever with all those things," said Aunt Ann. "And how is dear Irene?" Soames's smile died. "Pretty well," he said. "Complains she can't sleep; she sleeps a great deal better than I do," and he looked at his wife, who was talking to Bosinney by the door. Aunt Ann sighed.
The day was bright, the trees of the Park in the full beauty of mid-June foliage; the brothers did not seem to notice phenomena, which contributed, nevertheless, to the jauntiness of promenade and conversation. "Yes," said Roger, "she's a good-lookin' woman, that wife of Soames's. I'm told they don't get on."
"Taste!" cried June, flaring up at once; "wouldn't give that for his taste, or any of the family's!" Mrs. Small was taken aback. "Your Uncle Swithin," she said, "always had beautiful taste! And Soames's little house is lovely; you don't mean to say you don't think so!" "H'mph!" said June, "that's only because Irene's there!"
I do not say that the test is a good one." "You would have been put in prison, Mr Crawley, because the magistrates were of opinion that you had taken Mr Soames's cheque," said Mrs Proudie. On this occasion he did look at her. He turned one glance upon her from under his eyebrows, but he did not speak. "With all that I have nothing to do," said the bishop.
He said coolly: "I suppose he's fallen in love with some other woman?" Old Jolyon gave him a dubious look: "I can't tell," he said; "they say so!" "Then, it's probably true," remarked young Jolyon unexpectedly; "and I suppose they've told you who she is?" "Yes," said old Jolyon, "Soames's wife!"
Where they pick up their knowledge I can't tell, but they seem to know everything." Over Soames's face, closely composed, passed a sort of spasm, and Winifred added hastily: "If you don't like to speak of it, I could for you." Soames shook his head. Unless there was absolute necessity the thought that his adored daughter should learn of that old scandal hurt his pride too much.
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