The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

Watching her face with idle malice, he saw it change, grow so pale that

he thought she would drop, then flame out crimson. Turning to see at

what she was looking, he saw his wife on Bosinney's arm, coming from

the conservatory at the end of the room. Her eyes were raised to his,

as though answering some question he had asked, and he was gazing at her

intently.

Soames looked again at June. Her hand rested on old Jolyon's arm; she

seemed to be making a request. He saw a surprised look on his uncle's

face; they turned and passed through the door out of his sight.

The music began again--a waltz--and, still as a statue in the recess of

the window, his face unmoved, but no smile on his lips, Soames waited.

Presently, within a yard of the dark balcony, his wife and Bosinney

passed. He caught the perfume of the gardenias that she wore, saw the

rise and fall of her bosom, the languor in her eyes, her parted lips,

and a look on her face that he did not know. To the slow, swinging

measure they danced by, and it seemed to him that they clung to each

other; he saw her raise her eyes, soft and dark, to Bosinney's, and drop

them again.

Very white, he turned back to the balcony, and leaning on it, gazed down

on the Square; the figures were still there looking up at the light with

dull persistency, the policeman's face, too, upturned, and staring, but

he saw nothing of them. Below, a carriage drew up, two figures got in,

and drove away....

That evening June and old Jolyon sat down to dinner at the usual hour.

The girl was in her customary high-necked frock, old Jolyon had not

dressed.

At breakfast she had spoken of the dance at Uncle Roger's, she wanted to

go; she had been stupid enough, she said, not to think of asking anyone

to take her. It was too late now.

Old Jolyon lifted his keen eyes. June was used to go to dances with

Irene as a matter of course! and deliberately fixing his gaze on her, he

asked: "Why don't you get Irene?"

No! June did not want to ask Irene; she would only go if--if her

grandfather wouldn't mind just for once for a little time!

At her look, so eager and so worn, old Jolyon had grumblingly consented.

He did not know what she wanted, he said, with going to a dance like

this, a poor affair, he would wager; and she no more fit for it than a

cat! What she wanted was sea air, and after his general meeting of the

Globular Gold Concessions he was ready to take her. She didn't want to

go away? Ah! she would knock herself up! Stealing a mournful look at

her, he went on with his breakfast.