The Complete Project Gutenberg Works of Galsworthy
f going home. He had not reached Hamilton Terrace before he changed his mind, and hai
ot his habit to ask people for things! She had just that one idea now-Bosinney and his affairs-and she left him stranded in his great house, with a parcel of servants, and not a soul to speak to from morning to
et his liver; he hated hotels. Roger went to a hydropathic-he was not going
lines down his face deepening, his eyes day by day looking forth with the
s of the acacia's before the little houses, in the summer sunshine that seemed holding a revel over the little gardens; and he
culiar buff colour which implies a long immunity fro
ooping moustache and wings of white hair, very upright, under an excessively
on Forsyte
name shall I say, i
the little maid as he gave his name. Sh
l double, drawing-room, where the furniture was covere
, sir; if you'll kindly ta
-he could not tell exactly what-air of shabbiness, or rather of making two ends meet, about everything. As far as he could see, not a single piece of furniture
e the rent was under a hundred a year; it hurt him more than he could
ck. Would he please to
ench windows. In descending the steps
ildren, and his dog Balthasar, wer
on's life; but no muscle of his face moved, no nervous gesture
him and so many others of his class the core of the nation. In the unostentatious conduct of their own affairs, to the neglect o
s friendly and cynical mongrel-offspring of a liaison between
ker chair, and his two grandchildren, one on each side of his
, pudgy-faced, with his tow-coloured hair brushed off his forehead, and a dimple in his chin, had an air of stubborn amiability, and
ntempt for things at large, had also taken a seat in front of old Jolyon, and, oscillating
the wicker chair creaked under his weight; the garden-beds looked 'dave
e peculiar scrutiny, curious yet trustful, that passes between
eyes. Her hair, brushed in fine, high curves back from her forehead, was going grey, like
always hidden from him, was full of secret resentments, and longings, and fear
legs crossed like his own father (a habit he was himself trying to acquire), should know it; but being a Forsyte, though not yet quite eight years old, he made no mention of the thing at t
ttle party of the three generations grouped tranquill
k one of Jolly's hands in his own; the boy climbed on to his knee; and little Holly, mesmerized
A minute later her husband muttered an excuse, and foll
like a flame, burned ever in his breast, and to youth he turned, to the round little limbs, so reckless, that wanted care, to the small round faces so unreasonably solemn or bright, to the treble tongues, and the shrill, chuckling laughter, to the insistent tugging hands, and the feel of small bodies against his legs, to all that was young and young,
following to his wife'
r before her dressing-glass,
. He had been through a hundred of these moods; how he had survived them he never knew, for he
e sure to throw her arms
suffer!" as she had done
to his pocket. 'I cannot stay here,' he thought, 'I must go dow
y, very red in the face, was trying to show that he could stand on his head. The dog
licious desire to cut
ese years! He ought to have known; he ought to have given them warning; but when did a Forsyte
atly surprised, for they had never heard their father speak sharply before
on poured
gh that his father had penetrated the cause of that sudden with
said old Jolyon with a shrewd look; "
Jolyon
bourhood," said old Jol
ied: "Yes, we're
roken by the sound of the
"I suppose I oughtn't to
so l
on got up and put his han
nly reached the wall at the end, whereon basked a crouching cat, her yellow eyes turned sleepily down on the dog Balthasar. There was a drowsy hum of very d
little. Then old Jolyon rose to go, and
eat, empty house in Stanhope Gate, fit residence for a Forsyte, with its huge bi
in-skinned by half; she gave Jo a bad time he knew! An
s, all suggesting to him (erroneously no doubt, but the prejudic
blood! A parcel of old women! He stumped his umbrella on the ground, as though to drive it into the heart of t
self had followed Society's behaviour for fi
er, and the whole story, with all his
te, for, with native perversity, being
for dinner, the only room he used when June was out-it was less lonely so. The evenin
s, rested on a picture entitled: 'Group of Dutch fishing boats at sunset'; the chef d'oeuvre of his collection. It gave him no pleasure. He closed his eyes
had given rise to grave doubts in the minds of many members-of the family-, especially those who, like Soames, had been to public schools, and were accustomed to niceness in
polished sideboard and the great pol
who cared about nothing but rattling through his work, and getting out to his betting or
those moments of philosophy which made
this world people couldn't look for affection unless they paid for it. It might b
s of being carried on in his master's presence; now and then he furtively breathed on the silver, and wiped it with a piece of chamois leather. He appeared to pore over the quantities of wine in the decanters, whi
his was an old buffer, w
n.' What if his master were asleep; he would soon have him out of that; there was the nig
r took it from his hands and placed it on the table, then, standing by the open
on the ta
of his chair, and sat down at