The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

No sooner, however, had they established themselves in Stanhope Gate

than he perceived to his dismay a return of her old absorbed and

brooding manner. She would sit, staring in front of her, her chin on her

hand, like a little Norse spirit, grim and intent, while all around in

the electric light, then just installed, shone the great, drawing-room

brocaded up to the frieze, full of furniture from Baple and Pullbred's.

And in the huge gilt mirror were reflected those Dresden china groups

of young men in tight knee breeches, at the feet of full-bosomed ladies

nursing on their laps pet lambs, which old Jolyon had bought when he was

a bachelor and thought so highly of in these days of degenerate taste.

He was a man of most open mind, who, more than any Forsyte of them all,

had moved with the times, but he could never forget that he had bought

these groups at Jobson's, and given a lot of money for them. He often

said to June, with a sort of disillusioned contempt:

"You don't care about them! They're not the gimcrack things you and your

friends like, but they cost me seventy pounds!" He was not a man who

allowed his taste to be warped when he knew for solid reasons that it

was sound.

One of the first things that June did on getting home was to go round to

Timothy's. She persuaded herself that it was her duty to call there, and

cheer him with an account of all her travels; but in reality she went

because she knew of no other place where, by some random speech, or

roundabout question, she could glean news of Bosinney.

They received her most cordially: And how was her dear grandfather? He

had not been to see them since May. Her Uncle Timothy was very poorly,

he had had a lot of trouble with the chimney-sweep in his bedroom; the

stupid man had let the soot down the chimney! It had quite upset her

uncle.

June sat there a long time, dreading, yet passionately hoping, that they

would speak of Bosinney.

But paralyzed by unaccountable discretion, Mrs. Septimus Small let fall

no word, neither did she question June about him. In desperation the

girl asked at last whether Soames and Irene were in town--she had not

yet been to see anyone.

It was Aunt Hester who replied: Oh, yes, they were in town, they had not

been away at all. There was some little difficulty about the house, she

believed. June had heard, no doubt! She had better ask her Aunt Juley!

June turned to Mrs. Small, who sat upright in her chair, her hands

clasped, her face covered with innumerable pouts. In answer to the

girl's look she maintained a strange silence, and when she spoke it was

to ask June whether she had worn night-socks up in those high hotels

where it must be so cold of a night.