The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

Irene flushed, and said in a low voice: "I can't show what I haven't

got."

James looked at her sharply; he felt that now he had her in his own

carriage, with his own horses and servants, he was really in command of

the situation. She could not put him off; nor would she make a scene in

public.

"I can't think what you're about," he said. "He's a very good husband!"

Irene's answer was so low as to be almost inaudible among the sounds of

traffic. He caught the words: "You are not married to him!"

"What's that got to do with it? He's given you everything you want. He's

always ready to take you anywhere, and now he's built you this house in

the country. It's not as if you had anything of your own."

"No."

Again James looked at her; he could not make out the expression on her

face. She looked almost as if she were going to cry, and yet....

"I'm sure," he muttered hastily, "we've all tried to be kind to you."

Irene's lips quivered; to his dismay James saw a tear steal down her

cheek. He felt a choke rise in his own throat.

"We're all fond of you," he said, "if you'd only"--he was going to say,

"behave yourself," but changed it to--"if you'd only be more of a wife

to him."

Irene did not answer, and James, too, ceased speaking. There was

something in her silence which disconcerted him; it was not the silence

of obstinacy, rather that of acquiescence in all that he could find to

say. And yet he felt as if he had not had the last word. He could not

understand this.

He was unable, however, to long keep silence.

"I suppose that young Bosinney," he said, "will be getting married to

June now?"

Irene's face changed. "I don't know," she said; "you should ask her."

"Does she write to you?" No.

"How's that?" said James. "I thought you and she were such great

friends."

Irene turned on him. "Again," she said, "you should ask her!"

"Well," flustered James, frightened by her look, "it's very odd that I

can't get a plain answer to a plain question, but there it is."

He sat ruminating over his rebuff, and burst out at last:

"Well, I've warned you. You won't look ahead. Soames he doesn't say

much, but I can see he won't stand a great deal more of this sort of

thing. You'll have nobody but yourself to blame, and, what's more,

you'll get no sympathy from anybody."

Irene bent her head with a little smiling bow. "I am very much obliged

to you."