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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Well, I don't know what you think," he said; "I dare say your sympathy's with him shouldn't be surprised; but I think he's behaving precious badly, and if he comes my way I shall tell him so." He dropped the subject. It was impossible to discuss with his son the true nature and meaning of Bosinney's defection. There seemed no end to the consequences of that piece of folly.
The room was filled with a sweet hot scent of flowering azaleas. She took a long breath of the perfume, and heard Bosinney's voice, not in the room, but quite close, saying. "Ah! there were such heaps of things I wanted to talk about, and now we shan't have time!" Irene's voice answered: "Why not at dinner?" "How can one talk...."
We don't see much of you nowadays!" Old Jolyon paid no attention to the remark. "How's Emily?" he asked; and waiting for no reply, went on "I've come to see you about this affair of young Bosinney's. I'm told that new house of his is a white elephant." "I don't know anything about a white elephant," said James, "I know he's lost his case, and I should say he'll go bankrupt."
Soames, the unconscious ironist, fixed his gaze on Bosinney's tie, which was far from being in the perpendicular; he was unshaven too, and his dress not remarkable for order. Architecture appeared to have exhausted his regularity. "Won't it look like a barrack?" he inquired. He did not at once receive a reply.
She had the right to know. She hurried on down Sloane Street till she came to Bosinney's number. Passing the swing-door at the bottom, she ran up the stairs, her heart thumping painfully. At the top of the third flight she paused for breath, and holding on to the bannisters, stood listening. No sound came from above. With a very white face she mounted the last flight.
"You forget," he said with a queer pride, "I can hold on, too I'm a Forsyte myself. We're all in the path of great forces. The man who leaves the shelter of the wall well you know what I mean. I don't," he ended very low, as though uttering a threat, "recommend every man to-go-my-way. It depends." The colour rushed into Bosinney's face, but soon receded, leaving it sallow-brown as before.
He stood stubbornly by the cab step, waiting for her to come back. He knew a trick worth two of that! Winifred was already in her cab. Dartie reflected that Bosinney would have a poorish time in that cab if he didn't look sharp! Suddenly he received a push which nearly overturned him in the road. Bosinney's voice hissed in his ear: "I am taking Irene back; do you understand?"
His fancy wandered in the fields of this situation; it impressed him; he guessed something of the anguish, the sexual confusion and horror in Bosinney's heart. And he thought: 'Yes, it's a bit thick! I don't wonder the poor fellow is half-cracked!
Her ring was not answered; she had now to make up her mind whether she would go down and ask the caretaker in the basement to let her in to await Mr. Bosinney's return, or remain patiently outside the door, trusting that no one would, come up. She decided on the latter course.
That evening, on his return from the City, he called at Bosinney's office. He found the architect in his shirt-sleeves, smoking a pipe, and ruling off lines on a plan. Soames refused a drink, and came at once to the point. "If you've nothing better to do on Sunday, come down with me to Robin Hill, and give me your opinion on a building site." "Are you going to build?"
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