Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven

On Tuesday evening, Soames, after supper at the club, went out to do that which required more courage and less detail; I'm afraid nothing like this has been done.He chose the evening, partly because Erin was more likely to be at home at night, and partly because he couldn't make up his mind during the day and needed a glass of wine to strengthen his courage. He got out of the carriage at the Chelsea Esplanade and walked as far as the Old Church; he remembered that Irene lived in a flat, but was not sure which.He found it later at the back of a much larger house; he looked at the name on the downstairs door: "Mrs. Irene Heron"—Heron, it was she!Her maiden name; it turns out that this name is used again, is it annoying? —He stepped back into the street and looked at the second-story windows.The apartment on the corner had lights and he could hear someone playing the piano.He never liked music. In those days, he still secretly hated music, because at that time, Erin always used the piano as a refuge, knowing that he would not be able to enter this profession.Hateful!For many years, the hidden resentment that had been suppressed by him was finally revealed!With the music brings painful memories.It must have been her playing; that made him almost sure of seeing her, and made him stand still more hesitant.The presentiment caused him to shudder; his tongue felt dry and his heart beat fast. "I have no reason to be afraid," he thought to himself.Then his lawyer's mind was working.Was he too stupid for this?I'm afraid we should make an appointment with her agent to have a formal talk, okay?No!That fellow Jolyon, he sympathizes with her, so he can't talk about it in front of him!never!He went through the gate again, walked slowly up the flight of stairs to get his heart beating better, and rang the bell.When the door opened, a scent from far away from the past overwhelmed his senses.That smell!The same drawing-room he used to go in, the smell of his own house--dried rose-leaves and honey! "Just Mr. Forsyte," said he, "your wife will see me, I know." That was what he had thought; she would take it for Jolyon!

The maid went in, and he was left alone in the narrow hall; a candlestick with a bead-grey shade cast a dim light on the wall, and the grayness of the walls, the carpet, everything, made the space between the walls very gray. He could only think absurdly: "Should I go in with my coat on, or with it off?" The music stopped, and the maid said at the drawing-room door: "Come in, sir." Soames went in.He noticed dumbly that everything was still silver-gray, and the baby piano was basswood.She had already stood up and leaned against the piano; one hand was placed on the keys, as if she was supporting her body; when she pressed a key suddenly, the piano made an incongruous sound, stayed there for a moment, and then let it go .The candlestick with the lampshade on the piano illuminated her neck and made her face quite dark. She was wearing a black evening dress with a little tulle or something on her shoulders-he couldn't remember seeing her Wearing black clothes, a thought flashed through her mind: "She needs to wear a dress when she's alone at home."

"It's you!" he heard her whisper. This scene had been rehearsed many times in Soames' fancy.But the rehearsals didn't help him.He was literally speechless.This woman he had so passionately wanted and possessed in the past, hadn't seen him for twelve years, and he didn't expect that he would still be so moved by the first sight.He had imagined himself talking and acting, half businessman, half judge.Now it seemed that what he was facing was not an ordinary woman, a wife who behaved badly, but a kind of power from inside and outside himself, as empty and unpredictable as air.A defensive self-mockery welled up in him.

"By the way, this is a strange visit. How are you?" "Thank you. Please sit down." She had left the piano, walked to a chair by the window, sat down deeply, and clasped her hands tightly together on her knees.Here the light was able to reach her, and so Soames saw her face, eyes, and hair, which, oddly enough, were just as he remembered them, and equally uncommonly beautiful.He sat down near where he stood in a basswood chair upholstered with silver stuff. "You haven't changed," he said. "No? What are you doing here?" "Talk about things."

"Your brother has already told me your request." "So what?" "I do. I always do." The reserved, stern voice of her speech, the defensive, defensive posture of her body, helped him at this point.Thousands of memories of her, those who have been on guard against him, stretched out at this time.He said bitterly: "Then if you're not surprised, can you tell me a little fact so that I can proceed? You have to do things according to the law." "You know what I can tell you." "Twelve years! Do you think I will believe you?" "I don't think you'll believe a word I say; but it's the truth."

Soames looked at her sternly.Just now I said she has not changed; now I see that she has changed.It's not on the face, the face has become more beautiful; it's not on the waist, the waist has just become a little fuller - no!She was changed in spirit; there was something about her that seemed active and courageous, where in the past she had been merely passive resistance. "Hmph!" thought he, "because she has her own income. Poor Uncle Jolyon!" "I suppose you're having a good time now?" he said. "Thank you, yes." "Why don't you let me bear a little? Despite those things, I will."

A faint smile played over her lips; but there was no answer. "You are still my wife after all," said Soames.Why he said this and what he meant by saying this, he still couldn't figure it out at the time and afterwards.It is almost absurd to say such nonsense, but the consequences are unexpected.She rose from the window seat and for a moment stood motionless, staring at him.He could see her chest rising and falling; then he turned and opened the window. "Open the window for what?" he snapped. "You'll catch a cold in this kind of clothes. I'm not terrible." He let out a short laugh.

She answered him with a laugh too—a slight laugh—slightly, bitterly. "It's—habit." "Quite an old habit!" said Soames with equal bitterness. "Close the window!" She closed the window and sat down again.This woman—this—his wife!Already have a force!As she sat there, he felt the power emanating from her like a layer of armor.Almost automatically he stood up and moved closer to her; he wanted to see the expression on her face.Her eyes met his without flinching.God!How clear were the eyes, and how dark brown they were set off by the white skin, and the fiery amber hair!And, how white the shoulders are!What a strange feeling!He should hate her!

"You'd better tell me," he said; "it's better for me and better for you to leave. That thing was too old-fashioned at the time." "I already told you." "Do you expect me to believe that you're all right—nobody?" "No one. You have to find it in yourself." This one, which made him very ill, Soames took a few steps towards the piano, and then returned to the fire, walking up and down in this way, as he used to do in old days in their drawing-room, when his own mood was overpowering. like that. "It won't work," he said. "You throw mine away. Generally speaking, you should—" He saw her white shoulders shrugged, and heard her say in a low voice, "Yes. Why didn't you divorce me then? I would have cared then ?"

He stopped and gazed at her with a sort of curiosity.If she was really living alone, how would she pass her daily life?And why didn't he divorce her in the first place?While staring at her, he felt again that she had never understood him and had always been sorry for him. "Why can't you be a good wife to me?" he said. "Yes; marrying you is a crime. I've been punished. Maybe you'll figure out something. You don't have to worry about my shame, and there's nothing to lose anyway. Now I think you'd better go." Soames felt a sense of defeat, like a chilling mist; he felt deprived of even his own justification, and felt something else which he could not even explain.He raised his hand numbly, took a small porcelain bowl from the stove, and turned it over to look at it.

"Rowestoft porcelain," he said. "Where did you get it. I bought one exactly like it at Jobson's." Suddenly, he remembered that he had bought china with her many years ago; He just stared at the porcelain bowl, as if everything from the past was contained in the bowl.Her voice woke him up. "You take it. I don't want this thing." Soames put the bowl back in its place. "Will you hold hands?" he said. A little smile appeared on her lips, and she held out her hand, which was cold to the touch in his rather enthusiastic mood. "She's made of ice," he thought to himself—"she'll always be made of ice!" But when this thought passed through his mind, the smell of her clothes and body still made him unable to control his mind, and It was as if the warmth in her—never meant for him—was struggling to make its presence felt.He turned and walked away; out of the house walked all the way, as if someone was waving a whip to chase him after him; did not even call a carriage, saw the empty riverside road, the cold river and the dense layers of saffron leaves The shadow on the ground felt better instead—he was very disturbed and flustered.He was flustered and angry at the same time, and he was faintly anxious, as if he had made some serious mistakes, and he couldn't see the consequences of these mistakes for a while.Suddenly a strange idea came to his mind: If she didn't say, "I think you'd better go," but instead, "I think you'd better stay!" How would he feel, and what would he do?After all these years of separation and grudges, her damned charm awaited him even now.Waiting there, as long as there is a gesture or a touch anytime, anywhere, it will ride on his head. "What a fool I was to run!" he murmured. "No progress at all. Who could have imagined that? It never occurred to me—" The memory flew back to the first few years of his marriage, playing cruel jokes with him.She didn't deserve to keep her beauty -- the beauty he once had and was so familiar with.He felt a surge of resentment at the obstinacy he admired.Most men don't want to see her, which is exactly what she asked for.She ruined his life, broke his self-esteem, and left him without a son.However, just seeing her, she was as cold and stubborn as before, but she had the power to turn him completely upside down!She has such magic, damn it!It's no wonder that for the past twelve years, as she said, she has kept her body like a jade.It turned out that Bosinney--it was a shame to think of this fellow--was still alive in her heart after all these years!Soames could not tell whether he was happy or unhappy at the knowledge of this situation. Near his club, he finally stopped to buy a newspaper.One headline read: "Boers Do Not Recognize Suzerainty!" Suzerainty! "Just like her!" thought he. "She's always denied it. Suzerainty! I still have legally. She must be very lonely in that shabby little apartment!"