The Forsyte Saga John Galsworthy (hot novels to read TXT) đ
- Author: John Galsworthy
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His mother had done the same. They ate little, at some length, and talked of his fatherâs catalogue. The show was arranged for October, and beyond clerical detail there was nothing more to do.
After dinner she put on a cloak and they went out; walked a little, talked a little, till they were standing silent at last beneath the oak-tree. Ruled by the thought: âIf I show anything, I show all,â Jon put his arm through hers and said quite casually:
âMother, letâs go to Italy.â
Irene pressed his arm, and said as casually:
âIt would be very nice; but Iâve been thinking you ought to see and do more than you would if I were with you.â
âBut then youâd be alone.â
âI was once alone for more than twelve years. Besides, I should like to be here for the opening of Fatherâs show.â
Jonâs grip tightened round her arm; he was not deceived.
âYou couldnât stay here all by yourself; itâs too big.â
âNot here, perhaps. In London, and I might go to Paris, after the show opens. You ought to have a year at least, Jon, and see the world.â
âYes, Iâd like to see the world and rough it. But I donât want to leave you all alone.â
âMy dear, I owe you that at least. If itâs for your good, itâll be for mine. Why not start tomorrow? Youâve got your passport.â
âYes; if Iâm going it had better be at once. Onlyâ âMotherâ âifâ âif I wanted to stay out somewhereâ âAmerica or anywhere, would you mind coming presently?â
âWherever and whenever you send for me. But donât send until you really want me.â
Jon drew a deep breath.
âI feel Englandâs choky.â
They stood a few minutes longer under the oak-treeâ âlooking out to where the grand stand at Epsom was veiled in evening. The branches kept the moonlight from them, so that it only fell everywhere elseâ âover the fields and far away, and on the windows of the creepered house behind, which soon would be to let.
X Fleurâs WeddingThe October paragraphs describing the wedding of Fleur Forsyte to Michael Mont hardly conveyed the symbolic significance of this event. In the union of the great-granddaughter of Superior Dosset with the heir of a ninth baronet was the outward and visible sign of that merger of class in class which buttresses the political stability of a realm. The time had come when the Forsytes might resign their natural resentment against a âflummeryâ not theirs by birth, and accept it as the still more natural due of their possessive instincts. Besides, they had to mount to make room for all those so much more newly rich. In that quiet but tasteful ceremony in Hanover Square, and afterward among the furniture in Green Street, it had been impossible for those not in the know to distinguish the Forsyte troop from the Mont contingentâ âso far away was Superior Dosset now. Was there, in the crease of his trousers, the expression of his moustache, his accent, or the shine on his top-hat, a pin to choose between Soames and the ninth baronet himself? Was not Fleur as self-possessed, quick, glancing, pretty, and hard as the likeliest Muskham, Mont, or Charwell filly present? If anything, the Forsytes had it in dress and looks and manners. They had become âupper classâ and now their name would be formally recorded in the Stud Book, their money joined to land. Whether this
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