yellow. One hand held a stout stick, and the other grasped the skirt of
his Jaeger dressing-gown, from under which could be seen his bed-socked
ankles and feet thrust into Jaeger slippers. The expression on his face
was that of a crossed child, intent on something that he has not got.
Each time he turned he stumped the stick, and then dragged it, as if to
show that he could do without it:

"He still looks strong," said Soames under his breath.

"Oh! yes, sir. You should see him take his bath--it's wonderful; he does
enjoy it so."

Those quite loud words gave Soames an insight. Timothy had resumed his
babyhood.

"Does he take any interest in things generally?" he said, also loud.

"Oh I yes, sir; his food and his Will. It's quite a sight to see him
turn it over and over, not to read it, of course; and every now and then
he asks the price of Consols, and I write it on a slate for him--very
large. Of course, I always write the same, what they were when he last
took notice, in 1914. We got the doctor to forbid him to read the paper
when the War broke out. Oh! he did take on about that at first. But
he soon came round, because he knew it tired him; and he's a wonder
to conserve energy as he used to call it when my dear mistresses were
alive, bless their hearts! How he did go on at them about that; they
were always so active, if you remember, Mr. Soames."

"What would happen if I were to go in?" asked Soames: "Would he remember
me? I made his Will, you know, after Miss Hester died in 1907."