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Updated: May 23, 2025
This was like lending a hand to Death, that final enemy of Forsytes. 'I must tell mother, he thought, 'and when it comes on, we must keep the papers from him somehow. He sees hardly anyone. Letting himself in with his latchkey, he was beginning to ascend he stairs when he became conscious of commotion on the second-floor landing. His mother's voice was saying: "Now, James, you'll catch cold.
She excited neither surprise nor disapprobation when encountered on the Rhine or at Zermatt, either alone, or travelling with a lady and two gentlemen; it was felt that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself; and the hearts of all Forsytes warmed to that wonderful instinct, which enabled her to enjoy everything without giving anything away.
To say that Jon Forsyte accompanied his mother to Spain unwillingly would scarcely have been adequate. He went as a well-natured dog goes for a walk with its mistress, leaving a choice mutton-bone on the lawn. He went looking back at it. Forsytes deprived of their mutton-bones are wont to sulk. But Jon had little sulkiness in his composition. He adored his mother, and it was his first travel.
Brutality is not so deplorably diluted by humaneness as it used to be, yet a sentimental segment of the population may still be relieved to learn that he did none of these things. For active brutality is not popular with Forsytes; they are too circumspect, and, on the whole, too softhearted.
What a peculiar scent!" And the lime-flowers that year were of rare prime, near honey-coloured. At the corners of London squares they gave out, as the sun went down, a perfume sweeter than the honey bees had taken a perfume that stirred a yearning unnamable in the hearts of Forsytes and their peers, taking the cool after dinner in the precincts of those gardens to which they alone had keys.
"Where do you go to give them?" he asked. "They're mostly Jewish families, luckily." Old Jolyon stared; to all Forsytes Jews seem strange and doubtful. "They love music, and they're very kind." "They had better be, by George!" He took her arm his side always hurt him a little going uphill and said: "Did you ever see anything like those buttercups? They came like that in a night."
'Why doesn't she come? Among those four Forsytes of the third, and, as one might say, fourth generation, at Wansdon under the Downs, a week-end prolonged unto the ninth day had stretched the crossing threads of tenacity almost to snapping-point. Never had Fleur been so "FINE," Holly so watchful, Val so stable-secretive, Jon so silent and disturbed.
"I suppose," said Jolly, "it's the second God, you mean, that old Balthasar had a sense of." "Yes, or he would never have burst his poor old heart because of something outside himself." "But wasn't that just selfish emotion, really?" Jolyon shook his head. "No, dogs are not pure Forsytes, they love something outside themselves." Jolly smiled. "Well, I think I'm one," he said.
But, in truth, there was no denying the revolt among the younger Forsytes against being owned by others; that, as it were, Colonial disposition to own oneself, which is the paradoxical forerunner of Imperialism, was making progress all the time.
Old Jolyon had heard of his brother's exploit that drive which had become quite celebrated on Forsyte 'Change. Swithin! And the fellow had gone and died, last November, at the age of only seventy-nine, renewing the doubt whether Forsytes could live for ever, which had first arisen when Aunt Ann passed away. Died! and left only Jolyon and James, Roger and Nicholas and Timothy, Julia, Hester, Susan!
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