The Forsyte Saga - Volume 3

It particularly annoyed him, entering that backwater of perfect peace,

to think that a lot of unscrupulous Trusts and Combinations had been

cornering the market in goods of all kinds, and keeping prices at an

artificial height. Such abusers of the individualistic system were the

ruffians who caused all the trouble, and it was some satisfaction to see

them getting into a stew at fast lest the whole thing might come down

with a run--and land them in the soup.

The offices of Cuthcott, Kingson and Forsyte occupied the ground and

first floors of a house on the right-hand side; and, ascending to his

room, Soames thought: 'Time we had a coat of paint.'

His old clerk Gradman was seated, where he always was, at a huge bureau

with countless pigeonholes. Half-the-clerk stood beside him, with a

broker's note recording investment of the proceeds from sale of the

Bryanston Square house, in Roger Forsyte's estate. Soames took it, and

said:

"Vancouver City Stock. H'm. It's down today!"

With a sort of grating ingratiation old Gradman answered him:

"Ye-es; but everything's down, Mr. Soames." And half-the-clerk withdrew.

Soames skewered the document on to a number of other papers and hung up

his hat.

"I want to look at my Will and Marriage Settlement, Gradman."

Old Gradman, moving to the limit of his swivel chair, drew out two

drafts from the bottom lefthand drawer. Recovering his body, he raised

his grizzle-haired face, very red from stooping.

"Copies, Sir."

Soames took them. It struck him suddenly how like Gradman was to the

stout brindled yard dog they had been wont to keep on his chain at

The Shelter, till one day Fleur had come and insisted it should be let

loose, so that it had at once bitten the cook and been destroyed. If you

let Gradman off his chain, would he bite the cook?

Checking this frivolous fancy, Soames unfolded his Marriage Settlement.

He had not looked at it for over eighteen years, not since he remade his

Will when his father died and Fleur was born. He wanted to see whether

the words "during coverture" were in. Yes, they were--odd expression,

when you thought of it, and derived perhaps from horse-breeding!

Interest on fifteen thousand pounds (which he paid her without deducting

income tax) so long as she remained his wife, and afterward during

widowhood "dum casta"--old-fashioned and rather pointed words, put in to

insure the conduct of Fleur's mother. His Will made it up to an annuity

of a thousand under the same conditions. All right! He returned the

copies to Gradman, who took them without looking up, swung the chair,

restored the papers to their drawer, and went on casting up.