"Well, young man! I'm here for my daughter; it rests with you, it seems—this matter. Your mother leaves it in your hands."
The boy continued staring at his mother's face, and made no answer.
"For my daughter's sake I've brought myself to come," said Soames. "What am I to say to her when I go back?"
Still looking at his mother, the boy said, quietly:
"Tell Fleur that it's no good, please; I must do as my father wished before he died."
"Jon!"
"It's all right, Mother."
In a kind of stupefaction Soames looked from one to the other; then, taking up hat and umbrella, which he had put down on a chair, he walked towards the curtains. The boy stood aside for him to go by. He passed through and heard the grate of the rings as the curtains were drawn behind him. The sound liberated something in his chest.
'So that's that!' he thought, and passed out of the front door.