“You’ve got a cousin at Oxford; you’ve never met him.  I should like to take you down with me to-morrow to where he lives and introduce you.  You’ll find it useful.”

Val, receiving the idea with but moderate transports, Soames clinched it.

“I’ll call for you after lunch.  It’s in the country—­not far; you’ll enjoy it.”

On the threshold of the drawing-room he recalled with an effort that the steps he contemplated concerned Winifred at the moment, not himself.

Winifred was still sitting at her Buhl bureau.

“It’s quite true,” he said; “he’s gone to Buenos Aires, started this morning—­we’d better have him shadowed when he lands.  I’ll cable at once.  Otherwise we may have a lot of expense.  The sooner these things are done the better.  I’m always regretting that I didn’t...” he stopped, and looked sidelong at the silent Winifred.  “By the way,” he went on, “can you prove cruelty?”

Winifred said in a dull voice: 

“I don’t know.  What is cruelty?”

“Well, has he struck you, or anything?”

Winifred shook herself, and her jaw grew square.

“He twisted my arm.  Or would pointing a pistol count?  Or being too drunk to undress himself, or—­No—­I can’t bring in the children.”

“No,” said Soames; “no!  I wonder!  Of course, there’s legal separation—­we can get that.  But separation!  Um!”

“What does it mean?” asked Winifred desolately.

“That he can’t touch you, or you him; you’re both of you married and unmarried.”  And again he grunted.  What was it, in fact, but his own accursed position, legalised!  No, he would not put her into that!

“It must be divorce,” he said decisively; “failing cruelty, there’s desertion.  There’s a way of shortening the two years, now.  We get the Court to give us restitution of conjugal rights.  Then if he doesn’t obey, we can bring a suit for divorce in six months’ time.  Of course you don’t want him back.  But they won’t know that.  Still, there’s the risk that he might come.  I’d rather try cruelty.”

Winifred shook her head.  “It’s so beastly.”

“Well,” Soames murmured, “perhaps there isn’t much risk so long as he’s infatuated and got money.  Don’t say anything to anybody, and don’t pay any of his debts.”

Winifred sighed.  In spite of all she had been through, the sense of loss was heavy on her.  And this idea of not paying his debts any more brought it home to her as nothing else yet had.  Some richness seemed to have gone out of life.  Without her husband, without her pearls, without that intimate sense that she made a brave show above the domestic whirlpool, she would now have to face the world.  She felt bereaved indeed.

And into the chilly kiss he placed on her forehead, Soames put more than his usual warmth.

“I have to go down to Robin Hill to-morrow,” he said, “to see young Jolyon on business.  He’s got a boy at Oxford.  I’d like to take Val with me and introduce him.  Come down to ‘The Shelter’ for the week-end and bring the children.  Oh! by the way, no, that won’t do; I’ve got some other people coming.”  So saying, he left her and turned towards Soho.