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Updated: May 20, 2025
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.
There's a sort of metronome inside us wonderful, sell-adjusting little machine; most delicate bit of mechanism in the world people call it conscience that records the proper beat of our tempos. I guess that's all we have to go by." Nedda said breathlessly: "Yes; and it's frightfully hard, isn't it?" "Exactly," Mr. Cuthcott answered.
But after debate as to which of the dead still had any influence with the living, it was decided to reduce the title to Cuthcott, Kingson and Forsyte, of whom Kingson would be the active and Soames the sleeping partner. For leaving his name, prestige, and clients behind him, Soames would receive considerable value.
Cuthcott turned to the room and let his screwed-up glance wander. He looked just then particularly as if he were going to bite. "If you take 'em at their own valuation: Yes. If at the country's: So-so. If at mine: Ha! I know what you'd like to ask: Should I be a Bigwig in THEIR estimation?
She went on: "It's Sir Gerald Malloring's estate. Lady Malloring won't " She heard a snap. Mr. Cuthcott's mouth had closed. "Oh!" he said, "say no more!" 'He CAN bite nicely! she thought. Mr. Cuthcott, who had begun lightly thumping the little table with his open hand, broke out suddenly: "That petty bullying in the country! I know it! My God! Those prudes, those prisms!
When you can't love, the only thing is to hate." "Oh!" said Nedda. Mr. Cuthcott again began banging on the little table. "Look at them, look at them!" His eyes wandered angrily about the room, wherein sat some few who had passed though the mills of gentility. "What do they know of life? Where are their souls and sympathies? They haven't any. I'd like to see their blood flow, the silly brutes."
Cuthcott with his that is, to hear him expound the doctrine he was always writing up, namely, that 'the Land' was gone and, short of revolution, there was nothing for it but garden cities. She had heard he was so cutting and ferocious that he really did seem as if he hated his opponents. She hoped he would get a chance perhaps Felix could encourage him. "What about the women?"
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