He stood up, close-lipped and cold; his nerves inwardly fluttered, his attention tweaked away at last from contemplation of that cloud looming on the horizon of his mind.
"The point," he said in a low, thin voice, "is by no means clear.
As there is no possibility of future consideration being received, it is doubtful whether the payment is strictly legal. If it is desired, the opinion of the court could be taken."
The superintendent's brother-in-law frowned, and said in a meaning tone:
"We have no doubt the opinion of the court could be taken.
May I ask the name of the gentleman who has given us that striking piece of information?
Mr. Soames Forsyte?
Indeed!"
He looked from Soames to old Jolyon in a pointed manner.
A flush coloured Soames' pale cheeks, but his superciliousness did not waver. Old Jolyon fixed his eyes on the speaker.
"If," he said, "the late superintendents brother-in-law has nothing more to say, I propose that the report and accounts...."
At this moment, however, there rose one of those five silent, stolid shareholders, who had excited Soames' sympathy.
He said:
"I deprecate the proposal altogether.
We are expected to give charity to this man's wife and children, who, you tell us, were dependent on him.
They may have been; I do not care whether they were or not.
I object to the whole thing on principle.
It is high time a stand was made against this sentimental humanitarianism.
The country is eaten up with it.
I object to my money being paid to these people of whom I know nothing, who have done nothing to earn it.
I object in toto; it is not business.
I now move that the report and accounts be put back, and amended by striking out the grant altogether."
Old Jolyon had remained standing while the strong, silent man was speaking.
The speech awoke an echo in all hearts, voicing, as it did, the worship of strong men, the movement against generosity, which had at that time already commenced among the saner members of the community.
The words 'it is not business' had moved even the Board; privately everyone felt that indeed it was not.
But they knew also the chairman's domineering temper and tenacity.
He, too, at heart must feel that it was not business; but he was committed to his own proposition.
Would he go back upon it?
It was thought to be unlikely.
All waited with interest.
Old Jolyon held up his hand; dark-rimmed glasses depending between his finger and thumb quivered slightly with a suggestion of menace.
He addressed the strong, silent shareholder.
"Knowing, as you do, the efforts of our late superintendent upon the occasion of the explosion at the mines, do you seriously wish me to put that amendment, sir?"
"I do."
Old Jolyon put the amendment.
"Does anyone second this?" he asked, looking calmly round.
And it was then that Soames, looking at his uncle, felt the power of will that was in that old man.
No one stirred.
Looking straight into the eyes of the strong, silent shareholder, old Jolyon said:
"I now move, 'That the report and accounts for the year 1886 be received and adopted.'
You second that?
Those in favour signify the same in the usual way.
Contrary—no.
Carried.
The next business, gentlemen...."
Soames smiled.
Certainly Uncle Jolyon had a way with him!
But now his attention relapsed upon Bosinney.
Odd how that fellow haunted his thoughts, even in business hours.
Irene's visit to the house—but there was nothing in that, except that she might have told him; but then, again, she never did tell him anything.