The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

"I was here first. We can't both stay here together!"

On Irene's face a smile wandered up, and died out like a flicker of

firelight. She did not move. And then it was that June perceived under

the softness and immobility of this figure something desperate and

resolved; something not to be turned away, something dangerous. She

tore off her hat, and, putting both hands to her brow, pressed back the

bronze mass of her hair.

"You have no right here!" she cried defiantly.

Irene answered: "I have no right anywhere!

"What do you mean?"

"I have left Soames. You always wanted me to!"

June put her hands over her ears.

"Don't! I don't want to hear anything--I don't want to know anything.

It's impossible to fight with you! What makes you stand like that? Why

don't you go?"

Irene's lips moved; she seemed to be saying: "Where should I go?"

June turned to the window. She could see the face of a clock down in the

street. It was nearly four. At any moment he might come! She looked back

across her shoulder, and her face was distorted with anger.

But Irene had not moved; in her gloved hands she ceaselessly turned and

twisted the little bunch of violets.

The tears of rage and disappointment rolled down June's cheeks.

"How could you come?" she said. "You have been a false friend to me!"

Again Irene laughed. June saw that she had played a wrong card, and

broke down.

"Why have you come?" she sobbed. "You've ruined my life, and now you

want to ruin his!"

Irene's mouth quivered; her eyes met June's with a look so mournful that

the girl cried out in the midst of her sobbing, "No, no!"

But Irene's head bent till it touched her breast. She turned, and went

quickly out, hiding her lips with the little bunch of violets.

June ran to the door. She heard the footsteps going down and down. She

called out: "Come back, Irene! Come back!"

The footsteps died away....

Bewildered and torn, the girl stood at the top of the stairs. Why had

Irene gone, leaving her mistress of the field? What did it mean? Had

she really given him up to her? Or had she...? And she was the prey of a

gnawing uncertainty.... Bosinney did not come....

About six o'clock that afternoon old Jolyon returned from Wistaria

Avenue, where now almost every day he spent some hours, and asked if his

grand-daughter were upstairs. On being told that she had just come in,

he sent up to her room to request her to come down and speak to him.