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it？ Could he face all that he had been through that morning； face it
day after day； night after night？ Looking up； he saw Rozsi at her
open window gazing down at him； never had she looked sweeter； more
roguish。 An inexplicable terror seized on him； he ran across the
yard and jumped into his carriage。 〃To Salzburg！〃 he cried； 〃drive
on！〃 And rattling out of the yard without a look behind； he flung a
sovereign at the hostler。 Flying back along the road faster even
than he had come； with pale face； and eyes blank and staring like a
pug…dog's； Swithin spoke no single word； nor； till he had reached the
door of his lodgings； did he suffer the driver to draw rein。
XII
Towards evening； five days later； Swithin； yellow and travel…worn；
was ferried in a gondola to Danielli's Hotel。 His brother； who was
on the steps； looked at him with an apprehensive curiosity。
〃Why； it's you！〃 he mumbled。 〃So you've got here safe？〃
〃Safe？〃 growled Swithin。
James replied； 〃I thought you wouldn't leave your friends！〃 Then；
with a jerk of suspicion； 〃You haven't brought your friends？〃
〃What friends？〃 growled Swithin。
James changed the subject。 〃You don't look the thing；〃 he said。
〃Really！〃 muttered Swithin； 〃what's that to you？〃
He appeared at dinner that night； but fell asleep over his coffee。
Neither Traquair nor James asked him any further question； nor did
they allude to Salzburg； and during the four days which concluded the
stay in Venice Swithin went about with his head up； but his eyes
half…closed like a dazed man。 Only after they had taken ship at
Genoa did he show signs of any healthy interest in life； when；
finding that a man on board was perpetually strumming； he locked the
piano up and pitched the key into the sea。
That winter in London he behaved much as usual； but fits of
moroseness would seize on him； during which he was not pleasant to
approach。
One evening when he was walking with a friend in Piccadilly； a girl
coming from a side…street accosted him in German。 Swithin； after
staring at her in silence for some seconds； handed her a five…pound
note； to the great amazement of his friend； nor could he himself have
explained the meaning of this freak of generosity。
Of Rozsi he never heard again。。。。
This； then； was the substance of what he remembered as he lay ill in
bed。 Stretching out his hand he pressed the bell。 His valet
appeared； crossing the room like a cat； a Swede； who had been with
Swithin many years； a little man with a dried face and fierce
moustache； morbidly sharp nerves； and a queer devotion to his master。
Swithin made a feeble gesture。 〃Adolf；〃 he said； 〃I'm very bad。〃
〃Yes； sir！〃
〃Why do you stand there like a cow？〃 asked Swithin； 〃can't you see
I'm very bad？〃
〃Yes； sir！〃 The valet's face twitched as though it masked the dance
of obscure emotions。
〃I shall feel better after dinner。 What time is it？〃
〃Five o'clock。〃
〃I thought it was more。 The afternoons are very long。〃
〃Yes； sir！〃Swithin sighed； as though he had expected the consolation
of denial。
〃Very likely I shall have a nap。 Bring up hot water at half…past six
and shave me before dinner。〃
The valet moved towards the door。 Swithin raised himself。
〃What did Mr。 James say to you？〃
〃He said you ought to have another doctor； two doctors； he said；
better than one。 He said； also； he would look in again on his way
'home。'〃
Swithin grunted； 〃Umph！ What else did he say？〃
〃He said you didn't take care of yourself。〃
Swithin glared。
〃Has anybody else been to see me？〃
The valet turned away his eyes。 〃Mrs。 Thomas Forsyte came last
Monday fortnight。〃
〃How long have I been ill？〃
〃Five weeks on Saturday。〃
〃Do you think I'm very bad？〃
Adolf's face was covered suddenly with crow's…feet。 〃You have no
business to ask me question like that！ I am not paid； sir； to answer
question like that。〃
Swithin said faintly： 〃You're a peppery fool！ Open a bottle of
champagne！〃
Adolf took a bottle of champagnefrom a cupboard and held nippers to
it。 He fixed his eyes on Swithin。 〃The doctor said〃
〃Open the bottle！〃
〃It is not〃
〃Open the bottleor I give you warning。〃
Adolf removed the cork。 He wiped a glass elaborately； filled it； and
bore it scrupulously to the bedside。 Suddenly twirling his
moustaches； he wrung his hands； and burst out： 〃It is poison。〃
Swithin grinned faintly。 〃You foreign fool！〃 he said。 〃Get out！〃
The valet vanished。
'He forgot himself！' thought Swithin。 Slowly he raised the glass；
slowly put it back； and sank gasping on his pillows。 Almost at once
he fell asleep。
He dreamed that he was at his club； sitting after dinner in the
crowded smoking…room； with its bright walls and trefoils of light。
It was there that he sat every evening； patient； solemn； lonely； and
sometimes fell asleep； his square； pale old face nodding to one side。
He dreamed that he was gazing at the picture over the fireplace； of
an old statesman with a high collar； supremely finished face； and
sceptical eyebrowsthe picture； smooth； and reticent as sealing…wax；
of one who seemed for ever exhaling the narrow wisdom of final
judgments。 All round him； his fellow members were chattering。 Only
he himself； the old sick member； was silent。 If fellows only knew
what it was like to sit by yourself and feel ill all the time！ What
they were saying he had heard a hundred times。 They were talking of
investments； of cigars； horses； actresses； machinery。 What was that？
A foreign patent for cleaning boilers？ There was no such thing；
boilers couldn't be cleaned； any fool knew that！ If an Englishman
couldn't clean a boiler； no foreigner could clean one。 He appealed
to the old statesman's eyes。 But for once those eyes seemed
hesitating； blurred； wanting in finality。 They vanished。 In their
place were Rozsi's little deep…set eyes； with their wide and far…off
look； and as he gazed they seemed to grow bright as steel； and to
speak to him。 Slowly the whole face grew to be there； floating on
the dark background of the picture； it was pink； aloof； unfathomable；
enticing； with its fluffy hair and quick lips； just as he had last
seen it。 〃Are you looking for something？〃 she seemed to say： 〃I
could show you。〃
〃I have everything safe enough；〃 answered Swithin； and in his sleep
he groaned。
He felt the touch of fingers on his forehead。 'I'm dreaming；' he
thought in his dream。
She had vanished； and far away； from behind the picture； came a sound
of footsteps。
Aloud； in his sleep； Swithin muttered： 〃I've missed it。〃
Again he heard the rustling of those light footsteps； and close in
his ear a sound； like a sob。 He awoke； the sob was his own。 Great
drops of perspiration stood on his forehead。 'What is it？' he
thought； 'what have I lost？' Slowly