MICHAEL GIVES ADVICE
MICHAEL still sat, correcting the proofs of 'Counterfeits.' Save 'Jericho,' there had been no address to send them to. The East was wide, and Wilfrid had made no sign. Did Fleur ever think of Wilfrid now? He had the impression that she did not. And Wilfrid-- well, probably he was forgetting her already. Even passion required a little sustenance.
"A Mr. Forsyte to see you, Sir."
Apparition in bookland!
"Ah! Show him in."
Soames entered with an air of suspicion.
"This your place?" he said. "I've looked in to tell you that I've bought that picture of young Greene's. Have you anywhere to hang it?"
"I should think we had," said Michael. "Jolly good, Sir, isn't it?"
"Well," muttered Soames, "for these days, yes. He'll make a name."
"He's an intense admirer of that 'White Monkey' you gave us."
"Ah! I've been looking into the Chinese. If I go on buying--" Soames paused.
"They are a bit of an antidote, aren't they, sir? That 'Earthly Paradise'! And those geese--they don't seem to mind your counting their feathers, do they?"
Soames made no reply; he was evidently thinking: 'How on earth I missed those things when they first came on the market!' Then, raising his umbrella, and pointing it as if at the book trade, he asked:
"Young Butterfield--how's he doing?"