‘By Jove!’ thought Jolyon; ‘Soames himself! What’s he up to now?’ And, stopping the cab round the corner, he got out and retraced his steps to where he could see the entrance to the mansions. Soames had halted in front of them, and was looking up at the light in her windows. ’If he goes in,’ thought Jolyon, ’what shall I do? What have I the right to do?’ What the fellow had said was true. She was still his wife, absolutely without protection from annoyance! ‘Well, if he goes in,’ he thought, ‘I follow.’ And he began moving towards the mansions. Again Soames advanced; he was in the very entrance now. But suddenly he stopped, spun round on his heel, and came back towards the river. ’What now?’ thought Jolyon. ‘In a dozen steps he’ll recognise me.’ And he turned tail. His cousin’s footsteps kept pace with his own. But he reached his cab, and got in before Soames had turned the corner. “Go on!” he said through the trap. Soames’ figure ranged up alongside.
“Hansom!” he said. “Engaged? Hallo!”
“Hallo!” answered Jolyon. “You?”
The quick suspicion on his cousin’s face, white in the lamplight, decided him.
“I can give you a lift,” he said, “if you’re going West.”
“Thanks,” answered Soames, and got in.
“I’ve been seeing Irene,” said Jolyon when the cab had started.
“Indeed!”
“You went to see her yesterday yourself, I understand.”
“I did,” said Soames; “she’s my wife, you know.”
The tone, the half-lifted sneering lip, roused sudden anger in Jolyon; but he subdued it.
“You ought to know best,” he said, “but if you want a divorce it’s not very wise to go seeing her, is it? One can’t run with the hare and hunt with the hounds?”
“You’re very good to warn me,” said Soames, “but I have not made up my mind.”
“She has,” said Jolyon, looking straight before him; “you can’t take things up, you know, as they were twelve years ago.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Look here!” said Jolyon, “she’s in a damnable position, and I am the only person with any legal say in her affairs.”
“Except myself,” retorted Soames, “who am also in a damnable position. Hers is what she made for herself; mine what she made for me. I am not at all sure that in her own interests I shan’t require her to return to me.”
“What!” exclaimed Jolyon; and a shiver went through his whole body.
“I don’t know what you may mean by ‘what,’” answered Soames coldly; “your say in her affairs is confined to paying out her income; please bear that in mind. In choosing not to disgrace her by a divorce, I retained my rights, and, as I say, I am not at all sure that I shan’t require to exercise them.”
“My God!” ejaculated Jolyon, and he uttered a short laugh.
“Yes,” said Soames, and there was a deadly quality in his voice. “I’ve not forgotten the nickname your father gave me, ‘The man of property’! I’m not called names for nothing.”