“He’s been rich and lost it all again. He came back to England with quite a lot of money.”
“He didn’t think of you then.”
“He lost it nearly all. Do be nice to him, René! He thinks such a lot of you. George is quite nice, and Elsie loves him already, but he thinks most of you. I’ve been telling him how wonderful you’ve been, and he says nothing must interfere with your career.”
“But someone must make money.”
“Only for a little. He says we could make much more with my money if it were re-invested.”
René swung round.
“He’s not to touch that, do you hear? You’re a soft fool, mother. He’s not to touch that. I’ll work myself to the bone first.”
“That’s dear of you, René. And you will be nice to him, won’t you?”
“All right, all right.”
She kissed him and flitted away, and presently, to the devastation of his attempts to adopt what he considered a worldly and wise point of view of the matter, he heard her singing in her room. A loathing and disgust rushed through him. Men and women! Men and women! It was George all over again, quintessence of George, here on the very fringes of his being. No escape from it! In the little house, all but the tiniest noises could be heard from end to end of it.