Timothy's eyes left the fly, and levelled themselves on his visitor. Soames could see his pale tongue passing over his darkish lips.
"Uncle Timothy," he said again, "is there anything I can do for you? Is there anything you'd like to say?"
"Ha!" said Timothy.
"I've come to look you up and see that everything's all right."
Timothy nodded. He seemed trying to get used to the apparition before him.
"Have you got everything you want?"
"No," said Timothy.
"Can I get you anything?"
"No," said Timothy.
"I'm Soames, you know; your nephew, Soames Forsyte. Your brother James' son."