"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.""This is fantastic,"murmured Jolyon.Well,the fellow couldn't force his wife to live with him.Those days were past,anyway!
And he looked around at Soames with the thought:'Is he real,this man?'But Soames looked very real,sitting square yet almost elegant with the clipped moustache on his pale face,and a tooth showing where a lip was lifted in a fried smile.There was a long silence,while Jolyon thought:'Instead of helping her,I've made things worse.'Suddenly Soames said:
"It would be the best thing that could happen to her in many ways."At those words such a turmoil began taking place in Jolyon that he could barely sit still in the cab.It was as if he were boxed up with hundreds of thousands of his countrymen,boxed up with that something in the national character which had always been to him revolting,something which he knew to be extremely natural and yet which seemed to him inexplicable--their intense belief in contracts and vested rights,their complacent sense of virtue in the exaction of those rights.Here beside him in the cab was the very embodiment,the corporeal sum as it were,of the possessive instinct--his own kinsman,too!It was uncanny and intolerable!