The Forsyte Saga - Complete. John Galsworthy

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СКАЧАТЬ remark she had made about 'not caring to get home'—and the story of how June had taken the news!

      He had determined, by this way of putting the question, to give Bosinney a chance, as he said to himself.

      The latter was long in answering, but kept his eyes with uncomfortable steadiness on James.

      “She has seen the house, but I can't tell you what she thinks of it.”

      Nervous and baffled, James was constitutionally prevented from letting the matter drop.

      “Oh!” he said, “she has seen it? Soames brought her down, I suppose?”

      Bosinney smilingly replied: “Oh, no!”

      “What, did she come down alone?”

      “Oh, no!”

      “Then—who brought her?”

      “I really don't know whether I ought to tell you who brought her.”

      To James, who knew that it was Swithin, this answer appeared incomprehensible.

      “Why!” he stammered, “you know that. …” but he stopped, suddenly perceiving his danger.

      “Well,” he said, “if you don't want to tell me I suppose you won't! Nobody tells me anything.”

      Somewhat to his surprise Bosinney asked him a question.

      “By the by,” he said, “could you tell me if there are likely to be any more of you coming down? I should like to be on the spot!”

      “Any more?” said James bewildered, “who should there be more? I don't know of any more. Good-bye?”

      Looking at the ground he held out his hand, crossed the palm of it with Bosinney's, and taking his umbrella just above the silk, walked away along the terrace.

      Before he turned the corner he glanced back, and saw Bosinney following him slowly—'slinking along the wall' as he put it to himself, 'like a great cat.' He paid no attention when the young fellow raised his hat.

      Outside the drive, and out of sight, he slackened his pace still more. Very slowly, more bent than when he came, lean, hungry, and disheartened, he made his way back to the station.

      The Buccaneer, watching him go so sadly home, felt sorry perhaps for his behaviour to the old man.

CHAPTER V—SOAMES AND BOSINNEY CORRESPOND

       Table of Contents

      James said nothing to his son of this visit to the house; but, having occasion to go to Timothy's one morning on a matter connected with a drainage scheme which was being forced by the sanitary authorities on his brother, he mentioned it there.

      It was not, he said, a bad house. He could see that a good deal could be made of it. The fellow was clever in his way, though what it was going to cost Soames before it was done with he didn't know.

      Euphemia Forsyte, who happened to be in the room—she had come round to borrow the Rev. Mr. Scoles' last novel, 'Passion and Paregoric', which was having such a vogue—chimed in.

      “I saw Irene yesterday at the Stores; she and Mr. Bosinney were having a nice little chat in the Groceries.”

      It was thus, simply, that she recorded a scene which had really made a deep and complicated impression on her. She had been hurrying to the silk department of the Church and Commercial Stores—that Institution than which, with its admirable system, admitting only guaranteed persons on a basis of payment before delivery, no emporium can be more highly recommended to Forsytes—to match a piece of prunella silk for her mother, who was waiting in the carriage outside.

      Passing through the Groceries her eye was unpleasantly attracted by the back view of a very beautiful figure. It was so charmingly proportioned, so balanced, and so well clothed, that Euphemia's instinctive propriety was at once alarmed; such figures, she knew, by intuition rather than experience, were rarely connected with virtue—certainly never in her mind, for her own back was somewhat difficult to fit.

      Her suspicions were fortunately confirmed. A young man coming from the Drugs had snatched off his hat, and was accosting the lady with the unknown back.

      It was then that she saw with whom she had to deal; the lady was undoubtedly Mrs. Soames, the young man Mr. Bosinney. Concealing herself rapidly over the purchase of a box of Tunisian dates, for she was impatient of awkwardly meeting people with parcels in her hands, and at the busy time of the morning, she was quite unintentionally an interested observer of their little interview.

      Mrs. Soames, usually somewhat pale, had a delightful colour in her cheeks; and Mr. Bosinney's manner was strange, though attractive (she thought him rather a distinguished-looking man, and George's name for him, 'The Buccaneer'—about which there was something romantic—quite charming). He seemed to be pleading. Indeed, they talked so earnestly—or, rather, he talked so earnestly, for Mrs. Soames did not say much—that they caused, inconsiderately, an eddy in the traffic. One nice old General, going towards Cigars, was obliged to step quite out of the way, and chancing to look up and see Mrs. Soames' face, he actually took off his hat, the old fool! So like a man!

      But it was Mrs. Soames' eyes that worried Euphemia. She never once looked at Mr. Bosinney until he moved on, and then she looked after him. And, oh, that look!

      On that look Euphemia had spent much anxious thought. It is not too much to say that it had hurt her with its dark, lingering softness, for all the world as though the woman wanted to drag him back, and unsay something she had been saying.

      Ah, well, she had had no time to go deeply into the matter just then, with that prunella silk on her hands; but she was 'very intriguee'—very! She had just nodded to Mrs. Soames, to show her that she had seen; and, as she confided, in talking it over afterwards, to her chum Francie (Roger's daughter), “Didn't she look caught out just? …”

      James, most averse at the first blush to accepting any news confirmatory of his own poignant suspicions, took her up at once.

      “Oh” he said, “they'd be after wall-papers no doubt.”

      Euphemia smiled. “In the Groceries?” she said softly; and, taking 'Passion and Paregoric' from the table, added: “And so you'll lend me this, dear Auntie? Good-bye!” and went away.

      James left almost immediately after; he was late as it was.

      When he reached the office of Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte, he found Soames, sitting in his revolving, chair, drawing up a defence. The latter greeted his father with a curt good-morning, and, taking an envelope from his pocket, said:

      “It may interest you to look through this.”

      James read as follows:

      '309D, SLOANE STREET, May 15,

      'DEAR FORSYTE,

      'The construction of your house being now СКАЧАТЬ