Four.
In the middle of a final miscellaneous conversation, Albert said—
“We’ll better be off.”
“Wait a moment,” said Clara, with a nod to indicate the still busy infant.
Then the door opened, very slowly and cautiously, and as they all observed the movement of the door, they all fell into silence. Darius himself appeared. Unobserved, he had left the garden and come into the house. He stood in the doorway, motionless, astounded, acutely apprehensive, and with an expression of the most poignant sadness on his harsh, coarse, pimpled face. He still wore the ridiculous cap and held the newspaper. The broadcloth suit was soiled. His eye wandered among his family, and it said, terrorised, and yet feebly defiant, “What are they plotting against me? Why are they all here like this?”
Mrs Hamps spoke first—
“Well, father, we just popped in to see how you were after all that dreadful business yesterday. Of course I quite understand you didn’t want to come in last night. You weren’t equal to it.” The guilty crude sweetness of her cajoling voice grated excruciatingly on both Edwin and Maggie. It would not have deceived even a monarch.
Darius screwed himself round, and silently went forth again.
“Where are you going, father?” asked Clara.
He stopped, but his features did not relax.