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They turned presently into comparative quiet, for old Jolyon’s way to a second Board led him in the direction of Moorage Street.

Then Soames, without lifting his eyes, began: “I’ve had this letter from Bosinney. You see what he says; I thought I’d let you know. I’ve spent a lot more than I intended on this house, and I want the position to be clear.”

Old Jolyon ran his eyes unwillingly over the letter: “What he says is clear enough,” he said.

“He talks about ‘a free hand,’” replied Soames.

Old Jolyon looked at him. The long-suppressed irritation and antagonism towards this young fellow, whose affairs were beginning to intrude upon his own, burst from him.

“Well, if you don’t trust him, why do you employ him?”

Soames stole a sideway look: “It’s much too late to go into that,” he said, “I only want it to be quite understood that if I give him a free hand, he doesn’t let me in. I thought if you were to speak to him, it would carry more weight!”

“No,” said old Jolyon abruptly; “I’ll have nothing to do with it!”