And this girl was French, not likely to lose her head, or accept any unlegalised position.  Moreover, Soames himself disliked the thought of that.  He had tasted of the sordid side of sex during those long years of forced celibacy, secretively, and always with disgust, for he was fastidious, and his sense of law and order innate.  He wanted no hole and corner liaison.  A marriage at the Embassy in Paris, a few months’ travel, and he could bring Annette back quite separated from a past which in truth was not too distinguished, for she only kept the accounts in her mother’s Soho Restaurant; he could bring her back as something very new and chic with her French taste and self-possession, to reign at ’The Shelter’ near Mapledurham.  On Forsyte ’Change and among his riverside friends it would be current that he had met a charming French girl on his travels and married her.  There would be the flavour of romance, and a certain cachet about a French wife.  No!  He was not at all afraid of that.  It was only this cursed undivorced condition of his, and—­and the question whether Annette would take him, which he dared not put to the touch until he had a clear and even dazzling future to offer her.

In his aunts’ drawing-room he heard with but muffled ears those usual questions:  How was his dear father?  Not going out, of course, now that the weather was turning chilly?  Would Soames be sure to tell him that Hester had found boiled holly leaves most comforting for that pain in her side; a poultice every three hours, with red flannel afterwards.  And could he relish just a little pot of their very best prune preserve—­it was so delicious this year, and had such a wonderful effect.  Oh! and about the Darties—­had Soames heard that dear Winifred was having a most distressing time with Montague?  Timothy thought she really ought to have protection It was said—­but Soames mustn’t take this for certain—­that he had given some of Winifred’s jewellery to a dreadful dancer.  It was such a bad example for dear Val just as he was going to college.  Soames had not heard?  Oh, but he must go and see his sister and look into it at once!  And did he think these Boers were really going to resist?  Timothy was in quite a stew about it.  The price of Consols was so high, and he had such a lot of money in them.  Did Soames think they must go down if there was a war?  Soames nodded.  But it would be over very quickly.  It would be so bad for Timothy if it wasn’t.  And of course Soames’ dear father would feel it very much at his age.  Luckily poor dear Roger had been spared this dreadful anxiety.  And Aunt Juley with a little handkerchief wiped away the large tear trying to climb the permanent pout on her now quite withered left cheek; she was remembering dear Roger, and all his originality, and how he used to stick pins into her when they were little together.  Aunt Hester, with her instinct for avoiding the unpleasant, here chimed in:  Did Soames think they would make Mr. Chamberlain Prime Minister at once?  He would settle it all so quickly.  She would like to see that old Kruger sent to St. Helena.  She could remember so well the news of Napoleon’s death, and what a, relief it had been to his grandfather.  Of course she and Juley—­“We were in pantalettes then, my dear”—­had not felt it much at the time.