"There were two reasons, I believe, why my respected father-in-law should take up the game of golf." "And both of them are characteristic of a Forsyte." "First, on his 69th birthday, he was presented with an old set of clubs by that apostle of fitness,Jack Cardigan." "And Forsytes refuse to waste anything, even an unwanted gift." "For the second reason, one must look to that dogged tenacity so characteristic of Forsytes in general, and of Fleur's father in particular." "Having set his hand to the plow, whether it be golf,defaulting managers or libel suits," "a Forsyte never gives up." "And although it may be hard to imagine him, at his age, as a serious contender for the amateur championship, it will certainly not be for the want of trying." "Oh, whatever it is you're doing, dear boy, I do wish you'd stop." "Stop?" "I'm convinced you'll do yourself an injury." "Nonsense." "It's very good for the liver." "But disastrous for the lawn." "There's a telegram for you." "Good god." "What is it, dear?" "It's from Michael." "He wants to see me tomorrow." "That red-haired baggage, what's her name?" "Marjorie Ferrar?" "Yes, she's suing Fleur for libel." "I thought she was sueing you for slander." "Doesn't libel have to be written down?" "Yes." "Excuse me." "Good morning, madam." "Well, coaker, a tiresome journey, but here we are at last." "Ah, there you are." "It's good of you both to come at such short notice." "Fleur's in the drawing room, sir." "There's a pretty pair of shoes." "I told you not to let her go around abusing that young woman." "Well, I know, sir, but Fleur doesn't consult me every time she writes a letter to one of her friends." "Pretty friends." "Let's have a look at the writ." "It's here, sir." "Hello, aunt Freddie." "Michael, it all seems rather petty to me." "Now, why doesn't Fleur apologize and have done with it?" "Oh, she won't hear of it." "She's spoiling for a fight." "Well, I think she's a silly girl." "Well?" "Ah, there you are." "Now this thing, they want an unqualified apology and damages." "You won't eat your words, I suppose?" "Do you want me to?" "No, why should I?" "I'm in the right." "Let me tell you something from bitter experience." "The courts exist to penalize people who are in the right." "Now these words they complain of," ""snake of the first water."" ""Hasn't a moral about her." They're true!" "But the trouble is, old thing, where's the evidence?" "Exactly." "All right." "If she wants to be opened up, she shall be." "I know she flew to Paris with Walter Nazing last november." "But surely, dear, people can fly in couples without... ah, but Anabel nazing said she didn't mind walter flying to Paris with Marjorie" "but she only wished she'd been told beforehand so that she could fly there with somebody else." "Good gracious me." "Well, perhaps we could subpoena mrs." "Nazing." "She's never give Walter away in court." "Oh." "Well, what else about miss Ferrar?" "Everybody knows she's having an affair with Aubrey Greene." "But he's a friend of yours!" "He has been until now." "Yes, but Fleur, between "everybody knows" and "somebody tells" is a great gap fixed." "She just wants money out of us." "As if she cared whether people thought her moral or not." "She despises morality." "Her view of morality." "Well, perhaps, we needn't go into personal details at all." "What, do you mean get her to admit that she's read certain books, acted in certain plays, danced certain dances..." "yes." "This might work." "Except that one's own point of view isn't quite that of a british jury's, sir." "I mean, even yours and mine, I expect, don't precisely tally." "I know what you mean, Michael, but you get a clever barrister, and he can turn the whole thing into an indictment of the... the fast set and modern morality." "And then we won't be accused of exposing a woman's private life." "Oh, yes." "Now, you'll have to give me the names of all these plays and books and dancing clubs and so forth." "Oh, and I shall want all the information I can get about this affair with this Greene chap." "Well, you can't get that from me, sir." "I haven't got it." "Do forgive me, Soames, but these books and plays and so on... yes, I mean, supposing I were asked if I'd read them." "Who can stand up today and profess to be shocked?" "You won't be asked any questions at all if I can help it." "Nobody will." "This thing's going to be settled out of court." "Without an apology?" "Yes." "Yes, of course." "It all seems a great deal of fuss about nothing." "But to do that, we need a strong case of justification." "Father would have said, "I can't imagine it."" "We're going to frighten that young woman out of her wits." "Now, Michael, you mentioned certain books she might have read." "Have you any particular book in mind?" "Well, let's see." "Yes, there's a thing going the rounds called Canthar." "Called what?" "Canthar, by Perceval Calvin, it's published in Brussels." "It sells privately over here." "Is that an advanced book?" "Well, I haven't read it, but I gather the...erotic passages are pretty hot stuff." "Where can I get a copy?" "I'll get you one." "Lunch is served." "Oh, splendid." "Thank you, Croaker." "Oh, by the way, I did hear something the other day, Michael." "It might help." "Do you know a man called sir Alexander Macgowan?" "He's an mp." "No, I can't say I do." "Oh, but I do, I'm sure." "Yes, we met at Hattie Chesseman'S." "He inherited a great deal of money." "Jute, I think, or something equally disagreeable." "I'm told he doubled it in 10 years." "Very interesting, but... one of those educated scotchman, Fettes and" "Balliol, presbyterian, rather formidable." "I didn't like him." "Well, anyway, someone told me that he was after Marjorie." "Well, seriously." "Marriage and all that." "Sooner or later, she's got to marry money, and how will the dour sir Alec like it if her dirty linen's on view all over London?" "Now, look here, Marjorie, there's just the one thing to be done." "You've got to make our engagement public." "Announce it in "The times" tomorrow." "Oh, no." "You're still on probation." "I'm not sure that I want to marry you." "But I want to marry you." "And that's that?" "That's that." "No, Alec." "I haven't made up my mind about marriage." "When I do, I'll tell you." "Settlewhite thinks you've a good case, but I won't have you appearing in court." "You won't no." "I'll go around and see Forsyte." "I'll get an apology from him tomorrow." "And from his daughter." "I don't think you will." "My father's seen old Forsyte, and he wouldn't budge." "The man's got a chin you could hang a kettle on." "This could be unpleasant for you, unless he settles out of court." "I don't care a twopenny damn." "He'll settle." "I've got those letters." "He'd better settle." "Or I'll break every bone in his body." "Alec, really." "He must be 70." "What about mont?" "He's not 70." "Michael?" "Oh, no, michael's MP can't have you breaking his bones." "Oh, is that so?" "All right, then." "Wait till he launches his foggartism nonsense in the house." "I'll eat him." "Poor little Michael." "Don't answer it." "That's either a bailiff..." "or else it's a sort of american prince charming." "And in that case, I don't choose to pass up..." "That's the expression they use, "pass up." Don't you think it's divine?" "What american?" "A waif and stray from South Carolina." "An innocent from the heart of the heartland,and in that case..." "I don't care to pass up a very worthwhile experience." "Now, look here... no, I think, on balance, I'll take the risk." "Yes?" "Hello." "Who are you?" "My name is Wilmot." "Mr. Francis Wilmot of Naseby, south carolina." "And Francis, this uncouth person is sir Alexander Macgown of Dungowrie, Angus." "Sir Alexander." "Miss Ferrar and I are discussing business." "May I suggest you leave us?" "Why, no, sir Alexander, I can't do that." "Why not?" "Because I'm here at miss Ferrar's invitation." "For tea." "Is that true?" "Alec, I should warn you, a southern gentleman doesn't like to be called a liar." "Isn't that so, mr." "Wilmot?" "I guess so, ma'am." "Don't look so bewildered, Francis." "Sit down." "You behaved beautifully, but you've made an enemy." "Good." "Ill-mannered brute." "Is he always like that?" "No, but he's always passionate." "With you?" "Oh, Marjorie, are you telling me..." "he wants to marry me." "But you wouldn't." "I might." "I don't believe it." "Someday." "He's a man." "He loves me." "England must be full of men who love you." "Men like...me." "Oh, my dear boy." "After three weeks?" "After three seconds." "I knew as soon as I saw you that evening at the Monts'." "You think I'm crazy?" "Frankly, I think you're rather sweet, but..." "For years I've been planning my trip to Europe, especially to England, where my folks came from." "I wanted to see Worcestershire." "Edinburgh castle.The tower of London." "Crufts dog show." "The Derby... darby." "Okay, the darby." "Now... now the only thing i want to see is you." "And I do see you." "Everywhere I look, there you are, day and night." "Your face comes between me and everything else." "Will you marry me?" "No, my dear child, I will not marry you." "Don't you think you could love me?" "Ah, now, that's something quite different." "Yes, I might be able to do that." "Well, then." "But I don't intend to." "Why not?" "Because for you, love means marriage, doesn't it?" "It certainly does." "I should say it does for any decent man." "Yes." "Now, tell me." "If I did marry you, where should we live?" "Down in South carolina?" "Amongst the cotton, surrounded by all those trees and cute darkies?" "It's very beautiful." "I'm sure." "But seriously, can you see me there?" "Yes, but if you don't like the notion, why, we can live wherever you want." "Very well, then." "Milk?" "Please." "Shall I tell you what it would mean?" "It would mean... a fair-sized house in London, Mayfair or Belgravia, big enough for entertaining and a staff to match." "All the clothes I want and a trip to Paris whenever I feel like buying some." "A house in Leicestershire for the hunting season and a villa on the riviera, Cap ferrat, I think." "And that's just the beginning." "Every year I should insist... okay." "I haven't got that kind of money." "Well, then, it's impossible, isn't it?" "I guess not." "Because if you ever love me, you'll find that's all that really matters." "You think so?" "I know it." "Well, all I can say is, don't bank on anything." "Now you must go." "But I... no buts." "I have to change, I'm late already." "Shall I see you tomorrow?" "Telephone...about 11:00." "That was nice." "Don't make a habit of it." "Now, skedaddle." "Oh, golly, I am late." "Hello?" "Can you get me Kensington 2902, please?" "Yes." "Hello?" "Aubrey?" "Oh, good." "Just to say I shall be half an hour late." "Mr. Wilmot, madam." "Oh, not in Paris?" "How nice." "Tea?" "Thank you, no." "I've just had some." "With miss Ferrar." "Oh, how interesting." "Where did she pick you up?" "We met at my hotel." "A happy coincidence." "Yes, it was." "I want you to know I think she's a wonderful person." "But, Francis, I knew that." "Yes?" "Well, why did you write me this letter?" "Did you show it to her?" "Lord, no." "But I'd like to have you tell me what you mean by calling her "the limit."" "And I'd like to have you tell me something." "Why this volte-face since our party?" "What she said that night, I don't think she meant it." "Indeed." "Did she tell you that?" "Not exactly." "She said she didn't mean us to hear." "Look, you've been real good to me." "Why don't you come along with me and meet Marjorie?" "And well...shake hands." "You're from the south, aren't you?" "Any french blood?" "My grandmother was of french stock, so I guess I'm a quarter french." "Yes, well, I'm more than that." "But you ought to know the french don't forgive easily, and they don't persuade themselves into believing what they want to." "I see." "Before I leave, you're going to tell me what you meant by this letter." "Am I?" "But of course.The limit of perfection." "What else?" "Aren't you the living proof?" "Goodbye." "I guess you'll have no use for me from now on." "Goodbye, Francis." "Good hunting." "And that is why, sir, I regret that the speech from the throne foreshadows no coherent policy regarding either underemployment or overpopulation." "But foggartism will supply that policy." "Now while, since the war, the population of this country has increased by 2 million, emigration has fallen from over 200,000 to 100,000." "Our old markets in Europe are shrinking, so we must look overseas to the empire." "But in order to create a new market there for our manufacturers we must ensure a healthy growth of population able and willing to buy our goods." "Now, foggartism asks that you look ahead to fix your minds on a date, say 20 years hence, just a minute in the life of a nation, and to work steadily and resolutely towards that date." "Jam yesterday." "Jam tomorrow." "But no jam today." "Exactly." "Can we afford jam today?" "I think not, sir." "Indeed, there are many people in this country without butter, let alone jam." "Hear, hear." "Now, the foggart plan is to send out in great numbers, boys and girls between the ages of 16 and 18 to the underdeveloped dominions." "The british character of the british empire will be established forever." "It will become a self-sufficing unit." "Supply and demand between the mother country" "And the dominions will be leveled up..." "And the dominions will then supply themselves." "The honorable member will forgive me if I doubt that." "For many years to come, we shall be far ahead in the machinery of manufacture... but what is the alternative?" "To reduce wages and increase working hours in this country in order to compete with cheap labor in europe?" "No, sir." "I want better wages, even more moderate working hours." "And that want is common among working men wherever the british flag flies." "Hear, hear!" "Talking through his hat." "Horrible man." "It is." "Yes, I'm sure it is." "Who is it, aunt?" "Sir Alexander Macgown." "Oh, him." "England as she now is, insufficiently protected in the air, lamentably devoid of food producing power, is an abiding temptation to the aggressive feelings of other nations." "Here again foggartism requires that..." "Fog!" "Fog!" "Foggartism!" "Shut up." "Give him a chance." "Foggartism requires that we lay down our land policy so that in 10 years we may be producing up to 70 percent of our own food." "And let that policy be as sacred as the league of nations." "And as damned." "The sacred and the damned." "It sounds like a novel by Dostoevsky." "Well, we shall get nowhere without this damned sanctity." "On our land policy depends not only the prosperity of farmers, landlords and laborers." "But, if another war should come, the very existence of England." "One would like to applaud." "He's done it very well." "Emigration." "The land." "These two great issues demand the same sweeping attention as was given to vital measures during the war." "As a nation, we have proved that in times of crisis, we can summon vast reserves of energy." "We can snatch victory from disaster." "And we can accept self-sacrifice for the sake of the future and our children." "I put it to you that this is such a time." "We dare not fail." "I am honored, sir, in having been permitted to draw the attention of all parties to this inspired treatise by sir James Foggart." "And I beg the house's pardon for having been so long in fulfilling my task." "I must congratulate the member for mid-bucks on a lively and well-delivered first speech, though his appeal for less bread and more taxes savors more of alice's wonderland than practical politics." "Hear, hear!" "The member for tyne and tees, earlier in the debate, made an allusion to the party to which I have the honor to belong." "I feel bound to say... it did seem to go terribly well!" "We must look for tomorrow's times." "Hello, darling." "Oh, you did splendidly." "You are a clever, clever boy." "Ah, aunt Freddie." "Thank you, well, I said it all, but I don't think it'll have any effect." "Bubbly, I thought." "Yes, of course." "Aunt winifred, shall I take your coat?" "Oh, yes." "Well, Blythe?" "Well, one had heard a good deal worse." "The points got made." "Oh, well, thanks." "You should have got someone else to do it, you know." "I don't carry the guns, Blythe." "You will." "Sensible, not too long." "You'll do." "Thanks, bart." "Oh, Fleur, by the way, your father wasn't there." "Oh, well, Michael did offer him a seat, but he said he hadn't been in the house since Gladstone moved the home rule bill, and then only because he was afraid grandfather would have a fit." "That is not clear to me." "Well, grandfather had a pass and didn't like to waste it." "Dear papa." "So like him." "There you are, darling." "Anything happen after I left?" "Happen?" "No, of course you don't know." "That beast." "Which?" "That person in jute, I thought him insufferable." "Macgown." "He kept interrupting you." "So that was Macgown." "He made a speech after you left." "Most unpleasant." "He doesn't care for foggartism, but there was more to it than that." "Oh?" "A personal attack on you." "He insinuated that you were interested in the sale of the Foggart book because Danby and Winter published it, and you wanted it pushed." "Good God!" "well, you must write to the times, Michael." "Explain that you left off publishing before you were elected." "That hairy haberdasher." "Give him the lie." "Yes, but in private, in the press or in the house?" "All three." "In private, you merely call him a liar." "To the times, you use the words:" ""Reckless disregard for the truth."" "And in parliament, you regret that he'd been misinformed." "And you might add that men's noses have been pulled for less." "And it is a large nose." "But look here, Bart." "I mean..." "well, you don't think... people wouldn't believe a thing like that about me, would they?" "They'll believe anything that suggests corruption in public life." "Of course, you realize, Michael, don't you, why this Macgown attacked you?" "Because of Marjorie Ferrar?" "Exactly." "Oh, no, damn it all." "The house is free from that kind of pettiness." "Don't you believe it." "Oh, Michael, I've a piece of news for your father-in-law." "Old shropshire doesn't speak to charlie ferrar anymore, because the last time the old man paid his debts, he made that a condition." "He was afraid of being asked again." "Not as lurid as I'd hoped." "Pity." "Well, anyway, Michael, here's to your good health." "We're all very proud of you." "Congratulations." "Thank you, thank you." "Well, mr." "Butterfield, what I have to say to you is confidential." "You won't discuss it with anybody." "Certainly not, sir." "Do you know this novel?" "Yes, sir." "It's printed in brussels." "They're paying five pounds a copy for it." "Have you read it?" "No, sir." "Well, don'T." "Now, tell me, can you buy 10 copies of this at my expense, and post them to 10 people whose names and address i'll give you?" "They're all more or less connected with literature." "You can put in slips to say the copies are complimentary or whatever you call it." "But mention no names." "No, sir." "It'll cost you well on 60 pounds." "The price is rising all the time." "Yes, never mind that." "I see you wish the book to be boomed, sir?" "Good god, no." "I have my reasons, but...we needn't go into them." "No, sir." "And you want the copies to come as if...from heaven?" "That's it." "I take it that publishers are in the habit of sending out books to people that they think will support them?" "Yes, sir." "One other thing." "I want you to call a week later on one of the people to whom you've sold the books and offer to sell another copy as if you were the agent for it." "I want to make quite sure that the copy's been received and read but you won't give your name, of course." "Will you do this for me?" "Yes, sir." "I owe you a great deal, sir." "Hm." "Yes." "Well, here's the list of people." "And I've underlined the one you're to call on." "Thank you, sir." "I'll write you a check for going on with, and you can let me know later if there'S... there's anything more to pay." "I see the person I'm to call on, sir, is a lady." "Yes." "Does that make any difference to you?" "No, sir." "Advanced literature is written for ladies nowadays." "So it appears." "I hope you're doing well." "Yes, splendidly, sir." "I was very sorry when mr." "Mont left the firm." "We've been doing better ever since." "Ah, yes." "Well, now, here's your check." "And thank you again." "Not at all, sir." "I'll report to you." "Yes.Good night." "Good night, sir." "Well, dear, you missed something." "What?" "Michael did very well." "Oh, I should dare say." "He's got brains." "We met Butterfield going out." "Anything new?" "Yes, I'v asked him to arrange something for me, and I want your help too." "Do you know this?" "What's that?" "Canthar?" "No, I haven't read it, everyone else has." "No, I haven't." "Should I?" "No, you shouldn't." "I want it attacked." "They say it's unspeakable." "Why this sudden zest?" "Well, that young woman..." "Marjorie Ferrar?" "Yes." "She belongs to a fast set." "Call themselves "advanced."" "If this thing were attacked in the press, in public, don't you think that would draw their fire?" "Get them to defend it, you mean, and then use that as evidence of their views on morality?" "That's very cunning." "But what's it about?" "Never you mind." "Uh, you think you can you find someone to do that for us?" "Someone whose name will act as a red rag." "Yes." "What about walker of the protagonist?" "Just the type." "Yes, he'd have to take it seriously." "Oh, certainly." "Show that it represents a school of thought, deliberate decadence." "Yes, pornography for its own sake." "Well, I am now bursting with curiosity." "What is this book?" "Well, in my young days, we would have read it if we could and kept quiet about it." "Nowadays, they make a splash of reading it and pretend it does them good." "Oh, that sort of book." "Walker must make it a strong plea for censorship." "Without that, they won't rise to the bait." "You think not?" "No, censorship is the red rag." "I'll look in at the athenaeum tomorrow and see if Walker's still alive." "Thank you.Obliged to you." "Not at all." "I admire your conduct of the case, but forgive me... it would be better to prevent the case coming into court than to get a verdict if it did." "So this chap macgown, if he's serious, he'll fight." "I shall offer them a settlement." "Come in." "Oh, excuse me, ma'am." "They didn't tell me you had visitors." "Smither." "Good gracious me." "Come in, come in." "Indeed, no, ma'am." "I can come another... why, it's mr." "Soames." "Yes, it is indeed." "How are you?" "I'm very well in myself, sir, thank you, and I hope I find you the same." "Yes." "Cook and I were always talking about you, mr." "Soames, and how kind you were when poor mr." "Timothy... sir Lawrence, this is Smither, an old friend, and a servant in our family for, how many years?" "Forty-three years, ma'am." "Gracious me, how do you do?" "Sir Lawrence Mont is miss Fleur's father... oh, yes." "Yes, I saw you in the church, sir." "At miss Fleur's wedding." "Uh, how's Cook?" "She died, sir." "Two weeks ago." "Well, she was 73 and somehow... well, I don't know." "I think she just sort of pined away." "So you're alone now?" "Yes, ma'am, that's really why I... oh, as I said before, I can come another time." "Soames, why don't you give sir Lawrence a drink?" "Yes, of course." "You'll find everything you need in the dining room." "Oh, yes." "Quite." "Mont?" "Yes, that will be delightful." "Well, goodbye." "Keep in touch now." "Indeed, yes, sir." "Come on, Mont." "Goodbye." "Lawks, ma'am." "Mr. Soames doesn't change a bit." "No." "Do sit down, Smither." "Please, sit down." "I was very sorry to hear about Cook." "I do wish we'd known." "Is there anything I can do?" "Well, I had thought, ma'am of writing to that mr." "Gradman to stop her pension, you see now she's gone... well, shall I do that for you?" "Oh, would you, ma'am?" "It's been a load on me mind." "Is there anything else?" "Well, I don't know if I really ought... but there..." "I will." "It's what I've come for." "Will you take me on, ma'am?" "I?" "Oh, but, Smither, I already have a parlormaid." "I know." "She spoke to me." "I don't see that I could manage..." "I'm only 61, ma'am, and active with it." "I know me place, and I know me work, not like some of them nowadays." "And then again, ma'am, I've got me pension, you see, so I shan't want much for wages." "But really, the thing is, service has been all me life, so to speak." "And now, with no family to do for, and living on me own, well, it... it isn't natural, is it?" "No, it isn'T." "And I know how you feel." "Smither, shall we give it a try?" "Oh, miss Winifred." "I mean... shall we say the first of the month?" "Very good, ma'am." "Mr. Speaker, I rise to correct a statement in yesterday's debate reflecting on my personal honor." "The honorable member for Greengow said of me," "I quote from Hansard:" ""As a member of the firm who published this singular production," ""he is doubtless interested in pressing it on the public so that we may safely discount any enthusiasm displayed."" "It is true I was a member of the firm which published sir James foggar's book in august 1923, but I retired from all connection with that firm in october 1923 before ever i entered this house." "I have, therefore, no pecuniary or other interest whatever in pressing the claims of this book beyond my great desire to see its principles adopted." "I believe that the honorable member for mid-bucks was not sufficiently interested in his own speech" "to be present when I made my reply to it yesterday." "I cannot admit that my words bear the construction he has placed upon them." "I said, and I still say, that one of the publishers of a book must of necessity be interested in the success of any book published by his firm." "The honorable member has placed upon his head a cap which I did not intend for it." "I am glad the honorable member has removed a construction which others beside myself had put on his words." "Now, sir, perhaps you'll tell me why you behaved like a dirty dog." "Oh, it's you, Mont." "Take that." "I'll damn well have the pair of you suspended." "You couple of brawling cads." "Go to hell!" "Michael?" "How are you?" "Hello, Francis." "How's Fleur?" "She's well, thanks." "Would you tell her I've had a letter from her cousin Jon?" "They're in great shape." "Asked to send his love." "Well, thank you." "Won't you come and have some tea?" "Oh, thanks, no." "Hey, you cut your hand?" "No, somebody's nose." "Well, I'm wanting to do that all the time." "Whose nose was it?" "Oh, a man called Macgown'S." "But... but that's the very nose!" "Well, I'm sure this won't be the first time you've been in this room, mr." "Forsyte." "Ah, indeed, no." "I expected to see your father." "Oh, he retired 10 years ago, but he remembers you." "Indeed?" "Roberts versus the London and South-western,1900." "Yes, 1899." "Yes, your father was for the company." "Well, now, this action... yes, mr." "Forsyte?" "It's all very petty." "What are we going to do about it?" "Well, that depends on what you have to propose." "My client has been grossly libeled." "Well, she began it." "Anyway, what's she relying on?" "Private letters written by my daughter to personal friends in a very natural anger?" "I'm surprised that a firm of your standing would even..." "I'm surprised that you're acting for your daughter." "Oh?" "Do sit please down, mr." "Forsyte." "Well, you can hardly see all round the matter." "I don't agree." "You've come to offer an apology?" "I should have thought that was for your client to do." "Well, if that's your view, I'm afraid there's no point in continuing this discussion." "Well, how do you think you're going to prove damages?" "She belongs to a fast set." "Anyway, I hear there's talk of marriage between her and sir alexander macgown." "I hardly think he's going... now, really, mr." "Forsyte, if you came to offer a substantial sum in settlement and an apology, we can talk." "Otherwise..." "Now, look, I'm prepared to offer you 1000 pounds to settle the whole thing, but an apology's out of the question." "The insults have had wide currency..." "I might accept 1500, but an apology is essential." "Well, if you take this thing into court, I think you'll be surprised... and sorry." "But the whole thing is so offensive to me," "I'm prepared to meet you over the money, though I don't think a jury would award you one penny piece." "That is a matter of opinion." "Yes, well...as to the apology, perhaps we could find a formula, something like this:" ""We both regret that we've said hasty things about each other."" "And signed by both parts." "Mr. Forsyte, I shall put your proposition before my client, not because I'm afraid of the result, but because, as you say, these cases, they're...well, they're not very edifying." "Miss Ferrar?" "Yes." "Good morning." "I represent spence clark literary ventures." "Who?" "We promote advanced literature." "I'm calling on certain people in society with a known interest in the arts, and I wonder if you would care to buy a copy of Canthar by Perceval Calvin?" "Oh, that." "Yes, it's rousing great interest and has been widely praised." "So I believe." "I've read it." "Even so, if you were to buy a copy, it would be a very great investment." "The price is rising steadily." "And it will be very valuable in time." "I hope you're right." "I've already got a copy." "Oh, in that case, madam, I'm sorry to have troubled you." "Good morning." "Who was that?" "A man selling books." "I didn't want any." "Oh." "And what's this?" "A drawing." "Rather good." "That american." "Of course." "He's been here." "Often." "I'm thinking of painting him." "It's a good face." "You lied to me." "You said he was in Paris." "Did I?" "Are you playing fast and loose with me?" "Of course." "Why not?" "You won't paint him." "He won't come here again." "He's in love with you." "Well, he can't help that." "And at least he's civilized." "And I'm not." "No, I'm a plain man." "Out of a dull novel." "Now don't be so disagreeable and let go!" "Pick up that sketchbook." "I'm damned if I will." "Then our engagement's off." "If you're old-fashioned, I'm not." "You want a woman who'll give you a whip for a wedding present." "I want you too much to be sane." "Then pick up that book." "Thank you." "What happened to your nose?" "I bumped into a door." "Poor door." "You're the hardest woman i've ever known." "Why I love you, I'll never know." "It hasn't improved your temper, anyway." "I'm sorry." "Alex, seriously, do you think we can by happy together?" "What are the prospects?" "Pretty poor, I think." "Whisky and soda?" "No." "It's in that cupboard." "No?" "Nothing?" "We'd better understand each other." "If I'm going to marry you, which is doubtful," "I'm not going into purdah." "I shall have whatever friends I like." "And until we're married, I shall even see them." "If you don't like it, you can lump it." "I'm not dependant on you, alex, so don't ever think it." "If I want to, I can go tomorrow to south carolina, where the darkies croon and the sun shines and the mockingbird sings sweeter than the nightingale." "At least, that's the story, and half of it must be true." "I can't see you in a swamp festooned with moss." "No?" "It could happen." "With my debts paid." "And this could do it." "Old Forsyte's offered 1500 pounds... what's the matter?" "It's this letter, I'd like you to read it." "All right, but announce our engagement." "Suppose I might as well." "In "The times", tomorrow." "Yes, well, this is all right as far as it goes, I suppose." "But an apology's essential." "You'll not settle for less." "I'll instruct settlewhite." "What's the matter?" "You're shivering." "Nothing." "Someone walked over my grave, that's all." "How is Kit?" "Fine." "Do you want to go up and see him?" "Yes, later." "Yes, you should hear this." "It's from settlewhite." ""Dear sir, your proposition was duly placed before our client," ""and we are instructed to say that she will accept the sum of 1500 pounds and an apology..."" "I'm not.." ""duly signed by your client, copy of which we enclose."" "This is ridic..." ""I, mrs." "Michael Mont, withdraw the words" ""concerning miss Marjorie Ferrar "contained in my letters to mrs." "Ralph Perryn" ""and mrs." "Edward Maltese of october the fourth last," ""hereby tender a full and free apology for having written them."" "You don't expect me to sign that?" "Don't get into a tizzy." "What do you expect me to do?" "Look, listen." "I'm sending this reply:" ""I have your letter of yesterday's date" ""and note that your client has rejected my proposition, which," ""as you know, was made entirely without prejudice and is now withdrawn in total."" "Oh, sweetie." "I'm not surprised." "Good for you, good for you." "They'll be sorry." "well, of course, you know who's put her up to this, don't you?" "Did you see saturday's times?" "No." "She's announced her engagement." "To Macgown." "Oh, and did Michael told you that he hit him on the nose?" "What?" "Whose nose?" "Macgown's, sweetie." "It bled like billy-O." "Now what on earth does he want to do a thing like that... didn't you read his attack on Michael?" "Oh, that, yes." "Ach." "Parliamentary stuff." "They always behave like schoolboys down there." "So she's going to marry him, is she?" "Mm-hm." "Well, we shall see." "Every word I said was true." "Yes, I dare say, but it isn't evidence." "All we've got to go on so far is Butterfield's report." "Useful no doubt, but... oh, and that story of about her affair with that painter chap," "Greene." "Oh, and what's all this about play-acting?" "All I know is that she's playing Olivia in the plain dealer." "Ah." "Is that an advanced play?" "Rather, about 250 years old." "Yes, well they were a coarse lot in those days." "Aubrey Greene is doing the decor." "He's what?" "The scenery, sweetie." "Oh, yes." "Yes, well, I shall go and have a look at it." "You won't like it." "Well, I hope not." "Oh, by the way, when michael comes in, would you tell him... by the way, where is he?" "In Bethnal green." "Bethnal... a woman called Norah Curfew runs a home for poor children down there." "She wrote him about his speech, so he's gone down there to see the creche." "Slum children?" "He'll come home with something catching, I shouldn't wonder." "Make him gargle." "I shall." "Shall we go up?" "Yes." "Nanny will be delighted." "Oh?" "Why?" "Well, kit always eats his tea so much better when you're there." "Nonsense." "Oh, I'll..." "I'll go on up." "Hello?" "Yes, this is mrs." "Michael Mont speaking." "Ah, madam." "This is the Langham hotel." "Manager speaking." "We're deeply sorry to trouble you, but we don't quite know where to turn." "We have a young american gentleman here, a mr." "Francis Wilmot." "Oh, yes, I do know mr." "Wilmot but... he's very ill, madam." "Pneumonia." "Well, I'll come at once." "The Langham hotel?" "Thank you, madam." "We shall be most obliged." "Oh, Coaker." "Could you please get me a taxi as quickly as possible?" "Yes, madam." "When you've got it, I want you to give this to Jennie." "Ask her to take it round to Chelsea." "It's very urgent." "And could you tell mr.Forsyte that I had to go out?" "I'll ring him as soon as I can." "Yes, madam." "And remember this one is to be given to Jennie to go round to Chelsea, it's extremely urgent." "How long has he been like this?" "I've noticed him looking poorly, ma'am, but we didn't know how bad he was till today." "I think he's just neglected it." "Poor gentleman." "You see, he's hardly there." "There ought to be a nurse." "She's been sent for, ma'am." "Oh." "Francis." "Francis, are you in any pain?" "If you try and cure me," "I'll hate you." "I just want to quit." "You mustn't talk like that, it's un-american." "Of course you're not going to quit." "I found this, ma'am." "Ought I to show it to the doctor?" "Pathetic, isn't it, ma'am?" "She's thrown him over, see." "Hm, it looks like it." "Well, I suggest you keep it." "If he gets better, give it him back." "If not, burn it." "Yes, ma'am." "Well, I'm not the lady." "Oh, no, ma'am." "No, I'm sure." "No, no, no." "I'll go." "You stay with mr." "Wilmot." "Yes, ma'am." "Come in." "So the note was from you." "I thought I recognized your writing." "You have reason to,haven't you?" "How is he?" "Very ill indeed." "Would you like to sit down?" "I'll tell him you're here." "Francis." "She's here." "Marjorie." "Tell her... tell her I'm finished with that fool business." "Thank her for coming." "Well?" "He doesn't want to see you." "He says he's finished with that fool business." "He thanks you for coming." "I'm sorry to have brought you up here." "Not a bit." "Will he get well?" "He doesn't seem to want to." "Oh." "Will you make it up?" "No." "All Forsytes take much the same attitude towards parliament as they do towards the Church of England." "They are bound to approve of such aged and respectable institutions, but because there's no money to be made out of religion or politics they can't take either of them seriously." "So when my father-in-law visited the House, it was not to hear me or anyone else make speeches, but to try once more to keep the Ferrar case out of court." "Sir Alexander Macgown?" "Mr. Forsyte?" "What do you want?" "This affair can't be any more agreeable to you than it is to me." "Are you the individual who applied the word "traitoress"" "to the lady I'm engaged to?" "That is so." "Then I don't see how you have the impudence to face me." "I spoke under the provocation of hearing your fiancée call my daughter a snob in her own house." "Do you want this petty affair made public?" "If you and your daughter think you can get away with calling miss Ferrar a snake, a traitoress and an immoral person, you're more mistaken than you ever were in your life." "An unqualified apology that her counsel can announce in court is your only way out." "And that you won't get." "Mutual regret is another thing." "As to the question of damages..." "Damn the damages." "Very well, I think you'll be sorry." "What the devil do you mean, sir?" "You'll find out by the end of next week unless you revise your views in the meantime." "If it comes into court, we shall justify." "You'd better look out what you say in court." "In court, we pay no attention to bullies." "Yes, a pity I'm not your age." "Ah, Forsyte, allow me to introduce you." "The marquess of Shropshire." "Oh, how do you do?" "Forsyte?" "How do you do?" "Any relation of the tea man?" "He was my uncle Jolyon." "Admirable." "No tea like it these days." "Know anything of electricity?" "The marquess wants everything electrified, especially this place." "Have you got any land?" "All I want." "Wise fellow." "Cows?" "A few." "Electrify them." "I beg your pardon?" "Take it from me, Forsyte, the milkmaid is dead." "In 20 years, earlier if I had me way, every cow in England will be milked by electricity." "Oh, indeed." "I myself have invented a machine... yes, yes, yes." "Quite." "Marquess..." "yes, what is it, young Mont?" "You'll remember my telling you about your granddaughter and my daughter-in-law?" "Forsyte here is her father." "Oh, yes, indeed, something to do with lions?" "Lion hunters." "A libel, was it?" "Yes, I remember in 1870, my aunt... oh, yes, yes, a most interesting case that, but... libels had some flavor in those days." "The words complained of were:" ""Her crinoline covers her considerable obliquity."" "Nobody wants a scandal, marquess." "Could you put in a word?" "Well, I see from the papers that my granddaughter's marrying a man called Macgown, a member of this house." "Would he be about?" "Yes, I've just seen him, it wasn't a very pleasant interview." "We're at a deadlock." "Oh." "Oh, very well." "I'll ask Marjorie to breakfast." "I dislike scandals." "Well, I'm off to the peer's gallery." "You coming, Mont?" "Yes, Parsham's railway-electrification bill." "Goodbye, Forsyte." "Don't forget what I told you." "Electrify your cows." "I wish he'd invite Fleur to breakfast, as well." "There are two parties to this quarrel." "Yes, in her present mood, she wouldn't come." "No." "Oh, by the way, you're wanting these, cuttings of letters from the protagonist." "Useful?" "Walker did his job well, they've gone for him hip and thigh." "The general consensus is that Canthar is great art with a capital "a"" "and what has great art to do with morality?" "When will England recognize genius?" "Well, as they say, so long." "Mr. Forsyte is here, madam, in the drawing room." "Oh, thank you, Coaker." "Could you take these?" "Is mr." "Mont home?" "Not yet, madam." "He telephoned to say he was at Bethnal Green but wouldn't be late." "I see." "Thanks." "Ah, there you are, my dear." "I'm just writing a note to Foskisson." "Fos... oh, the barrister." "I shall take Michael to see him." "No settlement?" "Oh, it's extremely unlikely." "Oh, by the way, tell me, that young american chap, what's-his-name...wilmot, have you seen him?" "We must lose... there's no chance there, duckie, but I have seen him." "In fact, I'm just back from seeing him at the Langham hotel." "What?" "what's that?" "Why should you..." "Really at death's door, poor boy." "Ill?" "Pneumonia." "It's all right, it isn't catching." "Oh, but Fleur... but he's going to get well, thank goodness." "It's all right, I was chaperoned at every visit by an elderly nurse." "Michael know about these visits?" "Not yet." "Why not?" "Well, I didn't feel like telling him." ""Feel like?" But don't you realize what position it puts you in, Fleur?" "Running off to a young man's bedside without your husband's knowledge?" "I know, darling, but he was terribly ill." "And besides, he was desperately in love with someone else." "Who?" "Marjorie Ferrar." "Well, that's just..." "It's all over." "I don't know, you come and go." "Flibbertigibbets, the lot of you." "Have you quarreled with Michael that you don't tell him things?" "No, not a quarrel." "Only he doesn't tell me things." "What sort of things?" "How should I know, duckie?" "Well, would Michael object to these visits to wilmot?" "Of course not." "He'd have minded if I hadn'T." "I think he rather likes francis." "Oh." "Well, either you or he or both are going to have to tell a lie and say that he did know about the visits." "Why?" "Well, because for all i know, you've been followed." "Has Marjorie been followed?" "Yes." "Yes, I decided it would be best to take every precaution..." "I see." "How delightful." "That'll be Michael." "Hello, darling." "Hello, Michael." "How was Bethnal Green?" "Oh, slummy." "But this place, sunshine house, three old houses knocked into one, and the yard's made into a playground for the children." "Funny little objects, Fleur." "Thin, deplorable accents but sharp as needles." "You ought to come down there with me." "Perhaps I will." "What they're doing there, on twopence, absolutely first-rate, and Norah Curfew, she..." "oh, yes, Norah Curfew." "She lives for everybody but herself, doesn't she?" "Yes." "Yes, she does." "The new woman." "One's getting clean out of fashion." "What's the matter, Fleur?" "Nothing." "There is." "Well, I get a bit fed up with being left out." "Left out?" "Yes." "As if one were fit for nothing but, well, kit and looking appetizing." "Fleur, anytime you like to go shares, in any mortal thing..." "I only have to ask?" "Thank you." "What is it, Fleur, please tell me." "My dear boy, I've told you." "Nothing." "Have you had tea?" "Yes.Fleur?" "It's Kit's bedtime, do you want to come up?" "Of course." "Oh, dad's here." "Perhaps you should entertain him." "Tell him about Bethnal Green." "Michael, is the new woman dramatic?" "I don't quite follow you." "Good god." "Uh, you got a stamp?" "Yes, I think so." "What's the matter with Fleur?" "Is something?" "Thank you." "She says you don't tell her things." "Well, I'd be only too glad to, sir, but I don't think she's interested." "She doesn't feel that public affairs matter." "Public?" "I meant private." "Private affairs?" "Well, there aren't any." "Do you mean she thinks there are?" "How should I know?" "Well, you can put that out of your head and hers." "Yes, well, she's been seeing this Wilmot chap at the Langham." "He's got pneumonia." "I'm sorry." "Oh, it's all right, he'll recover, but she ought to have told you." "She would have done if you'd been more open with her." "You know, wives are funny, they...well, they like to be talked to." "I know, sir, but it's my profession now to worry about the state of the country and the people and things like that." "But to Fleur, it's... well, it's a stunt." "I can understand that, but you see, the keener I get, the more afraid I am of boring her." "In a sort of way, she's jealous." "Jealous?" "Well, you better not let it go on." "It's trivial." "I'm not so sure, sir." "well, if there's a war, men have to leave their wives." "That's different." "When the country's in danger..." "well, isn't it in danger now?" "Oh, don't exaggerate." "Things aren't too bad." "The pound's going up." "It doesn't matter what you tell Fleur as long as you tell her...something." "She's intelligent, sir." "Yes, but national affairs are too remote." "You can't expect a woman to be interested in them." "Quite a lot of women are." "Yes, blue stockings." "Oh, no, sir." "Besides, they wear nude." "Oh, those things." "Yes, you put a tax on stockings and see what happens." "I'll suggest it." "Well, I'm off to my sister'S." "If you think anybody's going to take this foggartism business seriously, you're in for a disappointment." "So everybody tells me." "That's why I've stopped worrying Fleur about it." "I don't like cold water at home as well as abroad." "Oh, thank you." "Well, if you want my advice, I should drop it." "Pessimists aren't trusted in this country." "Why don't you take something practical like the state of the traffic or penny postage?" "Oh, by the way, if you're asked, say you knew all about Fleur's visits to wilmot." "Oh, certainly I will." "Husband and wife are one, eh?" "Yes." "Do you think it will come into court?" "I can't tell." "I expect so." "I went to see that scotch chap." "Good lord." "He's a fire-eater." "What do want to go hitting him on the nose for?" "He gave me a thick ear first." "But you must have said something." "I called him a dirty dog." "Yeah, well... well,he suggested a corrupt motive for my speech." "Your speech." "You've got to get into your head that nothing you say or do can make any difference." "Then what's the good of my being in parliament, sir?" "Keep a level head and do no more than you're obliged." "Oh, yes, and how do you decide how much that is?" "Common sense." "The country's like a tree." "You can keep it in trim, but you can't go on digging it up just to look at the roots." "Goodbye." "Eggs, grandfather, or fish?" "Help yourself." "I'll roam about and peck a bit." "So you're going to be married." "Is that fortunate?" "People say so." "He's in parliament, I see." "What's all this about a libel?" "It wouldn't interest you." "I disagree." "Why do you want to wash linen in court, eh?" "I don'T." "Aren't you the plaintiff?" "Yes." "What did she say about you?" "That I haven't any morals." "Coffee?" "Thank you." "Have you?" "As much as most people." "Anything else?" "That I'm a snake of the first water." "Oh, dear, what made her say that?" "I called her a snob, which she is." "Ah, that cuts deep, you know." "I want you to remember something, Marjorie." "We have no power these days, no divinity, but we still stand for something." "I tried to make it up, but she wouldn't." "I see." "Tell me then, are you happy about yourself?" "No." "Who is?" "Quite." "Quite so." "Indeed, yes, but you're going to be very well off, I hear." "That means power." "It's worth using well." "This scotsman, do you like him?" "At times." "With your hair, you must be careful." "Red hair can be extraordinarily valuable on occasion, at the Eton and Harrow match or for speaking after dinner." "But don't let it run away with you after you're married." "Can't you both say you're sorry?" "Why put money into lawyers' pockets, eh?" "She won't unless I do and vice versa." "Well, I dislike scandal, Marjorie." "Anything like that these days, another nail in our coffin." "Well, I'll speak to Alec if you like." "Do." "Where are you going to live?" "Belgrave square." "He's got a place in Scotland too." "Have your kitchens electrified." "It saves the cook's temper." "I get very equable food." "You seem to, grandfather." "I'm enjoying my eggs." "Good." "Now, what about a wedding present?" "Old lace?" "Oh, no, please, dear." "Nobody's wearing lace." "Oh, pity." "I have a superfluity of old lace and practically nothing else." "Just give me your blessing." "Very well." "Now, that's an idea." "I wonder if i could sell blessings, you know, like pardons and indulgences." "Why not, eh?" "Why not?" "Have some marmalade." "Excuse me." "Michael, Foskisson wants a word with you." "We shall be on in 10 minutes." "James." "The 11th hour, mr." "Mont." "Does your wife still refuse to apologize?" "Yes, unless there's an expression of regret on the other side." "And that isn't forthcoming." "Apparently not." "Then there's a point we have to consider." "I understand from mr." "Forsyte that your wife has been shadded well, she thinks so, but... then it's probably true." "I'm also told, forgive me, that she's been visiting a young american at his hotel." "Yes, a friend of mine." "Ah." "He's been very ill, pneumonia." "Quite so." "And you knew and approved of these visits?" "Certainly, yes." "Excellent.That gives me a free hand." "Miss Ferrar and mr." "Greene." "Interesting, very." "They're not totally conclusive." "Sir James, I'd rather you didn't drag in miss Ferrar's private life." "No doubt." "But do you or do you not wish me to win this case, hm?" "I've absolutely nothing to say." "Yes, well, that hat will do." "Have you ever been in court before?" "No." "Well, the great thing to remember is, don't pay any attention to anybody, especially the jury." "Now if you look at them, don't smile." "Why?" "Aren't they safe?" "Michael had better sit on your left." "Oh, by the way, have you and he got over that business of not telling each other things?" "Yes." "Good." "He's very fond of you, you know." "I don't really think he is." "Good morning." "Morning." "If you'll please wait here," "I'll see when we're on." "Thank you." "good morning." "Good morning, Settlewhite." "Morning." "Morning to you." "Why don't we settle now, Alec?" "There's still time." "If they'll apologize, we will." "What about me?" "I don't want to stand up there and be shot at." "Two can play at that game." "Perhaps." "You'd better hedge they may take a tosser over me." "I believe in you." "More than you believe in yourself." "All right, then." "Let it rip." "At least we'll know where we all stand." "Now, then, mr." "Greene, let us have this quite clear." "You were standing close to miss Ferrar when mr." "Forsyte came up to her." "Yes." "What did you hear mr." "Forsyte say to her?" "He said, "you are a traitoress." "Kindly withdraw."" "Or words to that effect." "To that effect?" "Are you positive he used the word "traitoress"?" "Oh, yes." "Positive." "Thank you, mr." "Greene." "I understand, mr." "Greene, that you're friendly to both parties in this action?" "Yes, yes, I am." "Then this scene we have heard described, it must have embarrassed you?" "Well, yes, in a way." "How much?" "Are you accustomed to that sort of thing?" "Well, not in London drawing rooms, I must say." "Where, then?" "In studios, places where artists meet and talk." "Among temperamental people." "Ah, yes." "You are an artist yourself, are you not?" "Of some repute, I believe." "Thank you." "Not at all." "So that when you hear words like" ""snob" and "traitoress" and "liar" bandied about among your friends, you accept it as normal behavior?" "Well, among my friends, yes." "But these people are your friends." "Is miss Ferrar an artist?" "She could be." "She has talent." "And mr." "Forsyte?" "Oh, good lord, no." "But I must say, he knows a picture when he sees one." "So you are saying it is acceptable for miss Ferrar to call her hostess a snob and mr." "Forsyte a liar but not acceptable for mr." "Forsyte to call miss Ferrar a traitoress?" "I said nothing of the sort." "yet you imply it, do you not, by coming here as a witness for the plaintiff?" "The witness was subpoenaed." "He had to come." "Then let me put this to you." "After the incident, miss Ferrar left the house?" "Yes." "And you?" "I went with her, of course." "Of course." "Because you agreed with her remarks?" "Well, certainly not." "I went with her because when I take a lady to a party," "I expect to see her home." "So you didn't agree with her remarks." "The jury will no doubt take note of that." "Just two more questions, mr." "Greene." "Have you seen miss Ferrar since that unfortunate party?" "Yes." "Many times?" "Several times." "So you remain on good terms." "And have you seen mr. and mrs." "Mont?" "No." "Never?" "No." "That's very interesting." "Thank you, mr." "Greene." "I agree with my learned friend." "It is interesting." "You have not been to the Mont's since the quarrel?" "No." "May I ask why not?" "Because I haven't been invited." "I'm sure the jury will take note of that." "Thank you, mr." "Greene." "That is all." "Poor Old aubrey." "It's his fault.He was on her side." "Yes, but he didn't have to bully the poor chap." "It was very well done, very professional." "I'm glad we briefed him." "I call the plaintiff, my lord." "Call miss Marjorie Ferrar." "Oh, pardon me, officer, is this courtroom number two?" "Yes, sir." "Can I get in there, please?" "Well, it's pretty crowded." "I'd be very grateful." "Well, very well, sir." "Thanks." "Now, miss Ferrar, you've told my learned friend that you had no animus against mrs." "Mont." "Look at this marked paragraph in the evening sun of october the third." "Did you write that?" "Yes, I wrote it." ""The enterprising little lady is losing no chance" ""of building up her salon on the curiosity which ever surrounds any buccaneering in politics."" "Is the reference to mrs." "Mont?" "Yes." "Not very nice, is it?" "Of a friend?" "I don't see any harm in it." "The sort of thing, in fact, you'd like written about yourself?" "The sort of thing I should expect if I were doing the same thing." "That's not quite an answer." "Let me put it like this." "The sort of thing your father would like to read about you." "My father wouldn't read that column." "Then it may surprise you to hear that mrs." "Mont's father did." "Do you write many of these cheery little paragraphs about your friends?" "Not many." "Every now and then, eh?" "And do they remain your friends?" "In society, it's not easy to know who's friend and who isn't." "I quite agree, miss Ferrar." "You have admitted making one or two critical remarks concerning mrs." "Mont in her own house." "Do you go to many houses and talk disparagingly of your hostess?" "No!" "And in any case, I don't expect to be eavesdropped." "I see." "So long as you're not found out, it's all right, eh?" "No, the..." "Now... on this first wednesday in october last at mrs." "Mont's, did you use the word "snob" of your hostess?" "I don't think so." "Do you suggest that mr." "Forsyte invented the word "snob"?" "I suggest he was mistaken." "Not a nice word, is it?" "Snob." "Was there any other reason why he should call you a traitoress?" "My remarks weren't meant for him." "I don't remember exactly what I said." "Well, we shall have mr." "Forsyte in the box to refresh your memory." "But I put it to you that you called her a snob, not once but twice, during that little conversation." "Yes, it seems, miss Ferrar, that you object to others saying nasty things about you in return." "Who advised you to bring this action?" "My father first, and then my fiancé." "Sir alexander Macgown." "Does he move in the same circles as you?" "No, he moves in parliamentary circles." "Exactly, and he wouldn't know,would he, the canons of conduct that rule in your circle?" "No circles are as definite as that." "Always willing to learn, miss ferrar." "But tell me, do you know what sir Alexander's parliamentary friends think about conduct and morality?" "I can guess." "Are you suggesting... we all know the meaning of the word "stuffy."" "Are our public men stuffier than you?" "They may say they are." "You think them hypocrits?" "I don't think anything at all about them." "Though you're going to marry one?" "You are complaining of the words "she hasn't a moral about her."" "Have you read this novel, Canthar?" "I think so." "Don't you know?" "I've skimmed it." "Taken off the cream, eh?" "Read it sufficiently to form an opinion?" "Yes!" "Would you agree with the view of it expressed in this letter to a journal?" ""The book breaks through the british stuffiness, which condemns any frank work of art, and a good thing too."" "Is it a good thing?" "Yes, I hate grundyism." ""It is undoubtedly literature."" "The word is written with a large L." "Should you say it was?" "Literature?" "Yes." "Not great literature, perhaps." "But it ought to be published?" "I don't see why not." "You know that it is not published in England?" "Yes." "But it ought to be?" "It isn't everybody's sort of book..." "Don't evade the question, please." "In your opinion, ought this novel, Canthar, to be published in England?" "Take your time, miss Ferrar." "Yes, I think literature should be free." "You wouldn't sympathize with its suppression if it were published?" "No." "And your view would be shared by most of your own associates?" "I should hope so." "A contrary opinion would be stuffy, wouldn't it?" "If you like to call it so." "It's not my word." "What is your word, miss Ferrar?" "I think I generally say, "gaga."" "Do you know, I'm afraid the court will require a little elaboration of that." "Not for me, sir James." "I am perfectly familiar with the word." "It means "in your dotage."" "The bench is omniscient, my lord." "Then anyone, miss ferrar, who didn't share your opinion in the matter of this book would be gaga?" "Aesthetically." "Ah, I thought we should arrive at that word." "But when a man's theme in a book is extreme promiscuity depicted with all due emphasis, that wouldn't have any practical effect on his readers,however young?" "I can't say about other people." "It wouldn't have any effect on me." "You are emancipated, in fact?" "I suppose so." "And therefore, you do not believe in current morality?" "I don't know what you mean by current morality." "I will tell you, miss Ferrar." "I should say, for instance, it was current morality that women should not have liaisons before they're married." "And of course should not have them after." "What about men?" "Thank you." "I was coming to men." "And that men should at least not have them after." "I wouldn't say that was current morality at all..." "Do I understand you to imply that in your view, it is moral for women to have liaisons before they are married?" "And for men and women to have them after?" "I think it's current morality, my lord." "I am not asking you about current morality." "I am asking whether in your view it is moral." "I think many people think it's all right, who don't say so yet." "Answer my question, please." "Do you say it's all right?" "It depends." "On what?" "On circumstances." "Environment." "Temperament." "On all sorts of things." "Would it be all right for you?" "I can't answer that question, my lord." "You mean you don't want to." "I mean, I don't know." "Very well." "Go on, sir James." "So, miss Ferrar, according to you, there is no harm in a book like Canthar?" "There ought to be none." "You mean, if we were all as aesthetically cultured as you?" "But are we?" "No." "Then there is harm, but you wouldn't mind that harm being done." "No, that's not..." "I don't propose, my lord, to read from this very unpleasant novel." "We have gone to the considerable expense of buying copies, and I shall ask that during the luncheon interval, the jury may read some dozen marked passages." "Have you a copy for me, sir James?" "Yes, my lord." "And for mr." "Bullfry?" "if there is any laughter, I shall have the court cleared." "Go on, sir james." "Do you remember a play called "the plain dealer" by Wycherley, given at a matinee on january the 7th last?" "Did you play in that the part of Olivia?" "Yes." "Is it the part of a modest woman?" "No." "Is it, towards the end, extremely immodest?" "I allude to the dark scene." "I wouldn't say extremely." "Anyway, you felt no hesitation about undertaking and playing the part." "A little thing like that didn't worry you?" "I don't see why it should." "If it did, I wouldn't act." "You don't act for money?" "No, for pleasure!" "Then of course you can refuse any part you like?" "If I did, I shouldn't have many offered me." "Don't quibble, please." "You took the part of Olivia not for money but for pleasure." "You enjoyed playing it?" "Pretty well!" "I'm afraid I shall have to ask the jury, my lord, to run their eyes over the dark scene in the plain dealer." "Are you saying, sir James, that a woman who plays an immoral part is not moral?" "That would asperse a great many excellent reputations." "No, my lord, I'm saying that here is a young lady so jealous of her good name in the eyes of the world, that she brings a libel action because someone has said in a private letter" "that she hasn't a moral about her." "And at the same time, she is reading and approving books like this Canthar, playing parts like that of olivia in the plain dealer, and as I submit, living in a section of society that really doesn't know the meaning of the word morals." "That looks upon morals, in fact, rather as we look upon measles." "It's my contention, my lord, that the saying in my client's letter," ""she hasn't a moral about her," is rather a compliment to the plaintiff than otherwise." "Do you mean it was intended as a compliment?" "No, my lord." "Well, you wish the jury to read the scene." "I'm afraid you're going to have a busy luncheon, gentlemen." "Go on, sir James." "My learned friend has made a point of the fact that you are engaged to a wealthy and highly-respected member of parliament." "How long have you been engaged to him?" "Six months!" "you have no secrets from him, I suppose?" "Why should I answer that?" "Yes, sir James." "Why should she?" "I am quite content to leave it at her reluctance, my lord." "Your engagement was not made public until january, was it?" "No." "Did you, in early January, become aware that you were not likely to get any sum in settlement of this suit?" "I believe I was told an offer had been withdrawn." "Do you know why?" "Yes, because mrs." "Mont wouldn't give the apology I asked for." "Exactly." "And was it a coincidence that you thereupon made up your mind to marry sir Alexander Macgown?" "Coincidence." "I mean the announcement of your engagement, you know." "It had nothing to do with this case." "Indeed." "Now, miss Ferrar, you like to stand up for your views, I hope." "Let me put your philosophy to you in a nutshell." "You believe, don't you, in the full expression of your personality?" "It'd be your duty, wouldn't it, to break through any convention?" "I don't say law, but any so-called moral convention that cramped you?" "I never said I had a philosophy." "Don't run away from it, please." "I'm not in the habit of running away." "I'm so glad of that." "You believe in being the sole judge of your own conduct?" "Yes." "In other words, so as long as you don't break the actual law, you think and do as you like?" "One doesn't always act up to one's principles." "Quite so." "But among your associates, it is a principle, isn't it, to judge for yourselves and go your own ways without regard to convention?" "More o less." "And living in that circle with that belief, you have the effrontery to think the words" ""she hasn't a moral about her" entitles you to damages?" "I have morals." "They may not be yours,they may be just as good, perhaps better." "At least I'm not a hypocrite." "We'll leave my morals out of the question, miss Ferrar." "But we'll go a little farther into what you say are yours." "In your own words, it depends on temperament,circumstances, environment, whether you conform to morality or not." "Answer, please." "Yes." "Very good." "His lordship put a general question to you, which you did not feel able to answer." "I shall put it in a way that will be easier for you." "Whether or no it was right for you to have one, have you, in fact, had a liaison?" "Take your time, miss Ferrar." "You know what is a liaison of course." "For God's sake, we must stop this." "Shh." "I consider your question insulting." "Oh, come, miss Ferrar." "After your own words?" "After what... well, I shan't answer it." "You won't answer it?" "No." "Thank you, miss Ferrar." "I shall break for lunch now, mr." "Bullfry." "Be upstanding in court." "Well...an unfortunate refusal, miss Ferrar." "Would you have preferred me to answer?" "That would depend on the answer you gave." "Do you expect me to lie?" "Frankly, miss Ferrar, I did." "Gallant, mr." "Settlewhite." "Sir Alexander would have believed me." "Then why didn't you lie?" "You wouldn't understand if I told you." "I dare say." "However, you have destroyed your case." "And we should settle it, immediately." "You can do what you like." "Can I get out quietly?" "Yes, if you'd go right, go down those stairs..." "He should never have asked that question." "Really, Michael." "We agreed that he shouldn't." "And her counsel, why didn't he help?" "Well, he was only too glad to get her out of the box." "The judge would have asked her the question himself in a moment." "The whole thing's a complete fiasco." "Oh, excuse me." "Then we've won?" "I'm not so sure." "What do you mean?" "We shan't be forgiven, that's all." "Oh, why couldn't she tell a whopper and have done with it." "Poor Marjorie." "I felt sorry for her." "You'd feel so crocodile." "Why shan't we be forgiven?" "Because all the drama was on her side." "Besides, her engagement... well, he'll break it off." "Well, of course." "If he does, she'll get sympathy." "If he doesn't, he will." "But either way, we shan'T." "Besides, didn't she stand up for what we all really believe in?" "Speak for yourself." "Don't we talk of everyone being free?" "Yes, but is there any connection between what we do and what we say?" "No." "Well, as I thought." "They've jumped at a settlement." "Each side paying their own costs." "It's more than they deserve, but we've won a moral victory." "Moral?" "Well, Alec?" "Where have you been?" "I walked through the park." "Tell me the truth, Marjorie." "I must have the truth." "In return for your adventures, I'll tell you mine." "For God's sake." "I've been going through hell." "Who was it who knew me better than I knew myself?" "Then it's true." "Yes, why not?" "Who was he?" "Oh, no." "I can't tell you that." "How many affairs have you had?" "Well, that's quite different." "It would be." "Because I'm in love with you." "Ah." "Yes, I dare say that does make a difference." "Who was it?" "That american?" "Oh, no." "Poor boy." "How long did it last?" "Nearly a year." "My god." "Yes, well." "She's excited." "Yes." "It's natural." "Give her a seidlitz powder, and I suggest an early night." "There's no hope of that, I'm afraid." "We're going out to a party at mrs." "Magussie'S." "Now who's she when she's at home?" "Oh, twice a widow, oodles of money." "You don't just go there to meet." "You go there to meet someone." "Huh?" "Who?" "Oh, always someone distinguished." "This week, the president of Nicaragua." "Next week, Harry Lauder." "Yes." "Tonight it's that great italian violinist," "Luigi Sporza, just back from his world tour." "In one year,he's played more music in more countries than any previous traveling fiddler." "I've never heard of him." "Is he any good?" "Oh, as a musician, only moderate." "But as an athlete, incomparable." "Well, as I say, don't keep her up all night." "She's tired." "Why doesn't she come down to Mapledurham?" "Yes, she should." "Yes, tell her to bring Kit." "All right, I will." "Well." "Goodbye, sir." "Coming." "Francis?" "I was in that courtroom today." "Were you indeed?" "Come in." "I thought you were finished that fool business." "I'm sailing for the states tomorrow." "Seems like a good idea." "I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to see me." "If you were in court... that damnable business." "Good entertainment, though, if you like that sort of thing." "I'm curious why you should want to see me?" "Why did you come?" "Well, Marjorie, I thought... you think I owe you something?" "Yes, well, perhaps you're right." "I did treat you very badly." "No?" "Oh, for Heaven's sake, francis." "Chivalry?" "Just old-fashioned american chivalry?" "Now, that's really funny." "When the lawyer asked the question about a love affair... oh, no, not that again, please." "I wondered if you didn't answer it because of me." "Because of... my dear boy." "Don't you know what an affair is?" "Haven't you heard?" "I see I shouldn't have come." "Oh, perhaps not." "Anyway, as you might imagine, I'm freelance again now." "Oh, all right, well, for heaven's sake, go away." "I'm fed up." "Mr. And mrs." "George Coot." "Well, here we go, darling, don't shake hands with him, whatever you do." "Nonsense, Michael." "I want to meet him." "Mr. And mrs." "Michael Mont." "Mr. And mrs." "Michael Mont." "Hello, mrs." "Magussie, how are you?" "Mr. And mrs." "Gordon James." "What stock price does the fat stock show?" "Why, Bart." "This isn't like you, mixing with the rich and famous." "You told me you were coming." "I wanted a word with you." "The case is ended, I see." "Yes, amid the shouts of the multitude." "Did you see the evening papers?" "I did." "Oh, Bart." "We should have settled up and dropped the whole thing." "You're right." "Dropping things is the answer." "If I'd dropped baronetcy in time," "I could have made a good contortionist." "It's too late now." "Yes, I'm afraid so." "Bart, now the case is over, have you a tip to give us?" "When victorious, lie doggo." "You've been labeled moralists." "It may recoil on you." "That's what I feel." "Fleur's father said it was my hitting Macgown on the boko really that really brought the case into court." "Ah, the tax on luxuries." "Miss Marjorie Ferrar." "Isn't that your late adversary?" "Yes." "Mr. Aubrey Greene." "I must go to Fleur." "So must I." "Marjorie." "Sir Alexander Macgown." "Oh, hello, sir Alec, how are you?" "Have you met my husband?" "Shall we go?" "Will you come with us, Bart?" "Well, alec?" "Tell me everything, now." "You want to revel in it?" "I'll marry you still." "Oh, no, Alec." "I'm not going out of my depth anymore." "It was absurd anyway." "Are you saying that you're still in love with that...?" "Enough, alec." "I can't marry you." "I'm sorry, really, I am." "I would like to have paid up if I could." "Are you sure you won't have a nightcap or something, Bart?" "No, thank you, my boy." "The cab's waiting and so is my bed." "Don't let her take it to heart." "Don't let her?" "As for you, michael, ride out the storm." "Everything passes." "Good night." "Good night, Bart." "You don't care a bit, do you?" "For myself, not a bit, no." "No." "Well, you've still got foggartism and Bethnal green." "Fleur, if you care, I care a lot." "If I care." "You think I'm a snob to care?" "I know you like to have people round you, and you want them to think well of you." "That isn't being a snob." "Whatever it is, you don't admire it." "I admire you, Fleur." "I admire you much more than you admire me." "You desire me." "You admire Norah Curfew." "Oh, for..." "Nora Curfew could snuff out tomorrow for... not her then, but what she stands for." "All that I'm not." "A selfless devotion to others." "I'm incapable of devotion." "What about Kit?" "He's part of me." "I'm devoted to myself, that's all." "Morbid, darling." "I see too clearly to be morbid." "Michael, take me round the world." "And leave Kit?" "Now's the time." "He's too young to mind." "You mean now?" "Next week." "But I can't, Fleur." "When the house rises in august..." "no, now!" "Five months away." "Five months?" "With the feeling I got?" "You don't understand, michael," "I've had six months off already, I'm driving out!" "And you, now could really help me." "All you care about is your idiotic foggartism." "Fleur, it's all so petty." "Petty?" "To mind being a failure?" "All you've got to do is show them you don't give a damn and they'll come buzzing round like a lot of flies." "Don't run away, Fleur." "It's not that." "It's only that I don't try for the same prize twice." "Very well." "I'll stay and be laughed at." "I know you think my work is nothing, a charade.But there it is." "I've put my hand to it." "How can I, honestly?" "Fleur, darling." "I know it's been hell for you, but tomorrow it..." "Tomorrow?" "Hello, sir." "Glad to see you, but I thought you were at Mapledurham." "Oh, I just brought this up." "It's a Chardin." "I say." "It will go well with your Fragonard." "How's Fleur?" "Restless." "Oh?" "With this libel case out of the way... that's just it." "We're being cold-shouldered." "Why?" "You won." "Exactly." "People resent moral superiority." "What's that?" "Well, I resent it myself." "Yes, well, you see, attacking modern morality was a good stunt with the judge and the jury, and so on, but in society... oh, society!" "Well, I know, sir, but it's what we live in." "Oh, I don't mind." "God knows I'm used to ridicule." "Over foggartism." "But Fleur... she ought to have more gumption." "Yes, but society's her game, you know." "She wants me to take her round the world." "Round the...?" "Well, I know it's probably the very thing for her, something dramatic." "What's the matter with st." "Moritz?" "No." "It's the world or nothing." "And I can't go, sir." "Not until the House rises in august." "I should feel like a deserter, and that wouldn't be good for either of us in the long run." "How can she think of leaving that little chap?" "That shows how desperate she is." "Have you told her you won't go?" "Five minutes ago." "It's taken me a week to decide finally." "A pretty wretched week." "Well, she went in for collecting people, and now she's lost her collection." "Where is she?" "In her bedroom." "Shall you go up?" "Yes." "Yes, I will." "Mind you." "I think you're right to stick to your runs." "Hello." "Tired, my child?" "Michael tells me you want him to take you round the world." "Well, he can't." "So that ends it." "Those jackanapes." "Where do you feel it exactly?" "In my head, in my eyes... in my ears and in my heart." "Oh." "What business have they got that...?" "Why should they poke their noses in?" "Supercilious, shallow set of society monkeys." "And I don't see how I can take you." "Of course not, duckie." "I shall get used to being laughed at." "Laughed at?" "I don't see why you should." "I suppose people do go round the world." "Why, yes, but not you, duckie." "You'd be bored stiff." "It's sweet of you to even think of it, but I couldn't possibly let you go, not at your age." "My age?" "I'm no age to speak of." "I know, but..." "well, no, no, that won't do." "If people can't behave themselves, I'll..." "No, I'll show them." "We'll go." "Yes." "No, no, now don't make a fuss." "You are a dream." "Nonsense." "Yes." "There's one thing certain, anyway." "That red-haired baggage, she won't be going round the world." "Well, Marjorie, I see you brought that case into court." "I had to." "Ah, just as I thought." "No reaction whatever." "The italians are wrong." "Tell me, why?" "Common honesty." "I read your evidence, if that's what you mean." "No." "I wanted to find out where I stood." "Did you?" "Very much so." "Are you still going to be married?" "No." "Oh." "Whose doing?" "His or yours ?" "He said he would still marry me if I told him everything." "I didn't choose to." "Is there much to tell?" "A good deal." "So you don't choose to be married." "And now you won't be well off after all." "Pity." "But I think you were right." "How much do you owe?" "Well, I..." "no hear taps." "Very well, then, about 5000." "A good deal of it was due to my engagement." "The credit gushed like oil." "Yes, I dare say Have you a list of your debts?" "Thank you." "Your grandmother's clothes cost a fifth of yours, for five times the acreage." "You wear nothing nowadays, but the cost... ah, but the less there is, the better it has to be cut, you know." "Have you any plans?" "I thought of going on the stage." "Well, I suppose that might be suitable." "Can you act?" "I'm no Bernhardt." "Oh, Bernhardt.Talented, of course, but for great acting one must go back to history." "Well, if I'm to clear you, I shall have to sell the Gainsborough." "Oh, no, I... the question is, Marjorie, whether it's possible to strike a bargain with you." "Have you a word to keep?" "I think so." "It depends on what I have to promise." "But I don't want you to sell the Gainsborough." "Times are hard." "I've got an invention that ought to make my fortune, but nobody will look at it." "I'll manage somehow." "Oh, not under a burden like this." "But with that hair, you ought to have some stuff in you." "Do you really think you could earn your living?" "Yes." "Very well then." "I'll make a bargain with you." "If I clear your debts, will you give me your word to pay ready money in future?" "I want the word of a lady, if you understand what that is." "I suppose you have every right to say that." "Oh, but the Gainsborough... you must leave that to me." "Will you promise?" "Yes, I promise." "Good." "I'd like to ask you not to cheapen our name any further, but...well, the spirit of the age is against me." "Grandfather, I feel... now don't start saying something you don't mean." "I'd just like to add one thing." "I'm 80, and you're what, 26?" "Am I a bore?" "Far from it." "What you must have been like at 40." "Very, well." "Don't get through life too fast." "You'll be dreadfully bored by the time you're 50." "And believe me, there's no greater bore than a bored woman." "Goodbye." "Goodbye, grandfather, and thank you." "Hussy!" "Oh, well, I suppose they're all alike." "Thanks awfully, and could you let us have our bill?" "Thank you." "Thanks a well." "That sounds awfully like home." "Hello." "Are you all english?" "Yes, well, I am but... and I am." "And I'm not, except by marriage." "Doesn't that count?" "I hope so." "Oh, thank you." "Oh, fleur." "I don't feel quite the thing." "I think I'll just go back to my room." "What is it?" "Are you ill?" "I don't know." "I feel giddy." "Giddy?" "Yes, give me your arm." "I've been doing too much, or else it's that confounded cookery." "Now don't make a fuss." "It's just a turn." "Well, what you must do is go upstairs and lie down." "I'll send for a doctor." "Doctor?" "No such thing." "Touch of liver, that's all." "Have you been over here long?" "Only a week, I'm afraid." "I came to fetch my wife and her father." "We leave for new york tomorrow and then home." "And what have you liked best over here?" "In washington?" "Mount vernon, of course." "Because it's british colonial?" "Oh, Anne, come on." "Well, perhaps." "No, the Adams memorial at Rock Creek cemetery." "It's magnificent." "Everlasting stillness.Great and sad." "It makes me sink, here." "That's almost exactly what my wife say which reminds me," "I think better go and find them, will you excuse me?" "Goodbye." "I liked him." "Why didn't you ask his name, Jon?" "Oh, it never occurred to me." "It never does, to an englishman." "Why on earth not?" "Well, supposing he didn't want to know us?" "What nonsense." "Ah, thank you." "You'll get used to it, Anne." "England is a small, overcrowded island." "Privacy is hard to come by, so englishmen cherish it." "Anyway, what's the point?" "They're leaving tomorrow." "We shan't see him again." "But that is the point!" "we'll be in England ourselves in a couple of weeks." "Come on, I'm hungry." "Daddy, you're quite sure you don't mind us going?" "Certainly not." "You mustn't waste the tickets." "Would you like some brandy, sir?" "I can get some on a doctor's prescription." "Yes, now, brandy would really do you... no, no, don't fuss." "Are you packed?" "Nearly." "Well, don't be late back." "It's an early start." "All right, sir." "Go on." "Oh, did Michael tell you he met some english people downstairs?" "No." "What was their names ?" "Silly old thing, he forgot to ask." "Oh, they didn't ask me mine, either." "As for you, are you quite sure you don't mind us going?" "Quite sure." "Quite sure." "Good night, sir." "Yes, I shan't wait up." "All right." "There we are." "How are we going to help the wages of the nation to be increased, if we teach men to break contracts," "if we throw men out of work by the million?" "And we know that, whatever happens, the state of unemployment afterwards will be worse than that which we have today." "At this moment we are enjoying the lowest unemployment we have had for some years." "No!" "Whoever speaks after me will be able to refute that, if he can." "The cost of living is lower today than it has been for years." "No, no!" "There are signs of improvement." "Slight, but real." "And this is the moment that has been chosen to challenge the existing constitution of the country and to substitute the reign of force for that which now exists." "It was only two years ago, I remember very well reading in The new leaders some observations by the leader of the labor party." "He said: "All it's life it had been opposed to the sympathetic strike." ""It had no practical value." ""It had one certain result:" ""A bitter and blinding reaction." ""Liberty was more easily destroyed by those who abused it, than those who opposed it."" "Hear, hear." "I agree with every word of that." "I have very few more words to say." "There are very few light hearts in England today." "The only people who are happy in this situation are those who envy us or who hate us," "because they see the home of democratic freedom setting out on a course which if successful on the part of those who enter on it, can only substitute tyranny." "It is not wages that are imperiled." "It is the very freedom of our constitution." "Hear, hear!" "But I have confidence, knowing the character of our people, that we will see these troubles through." "Hear, hear!" "Well, michael?" "It's on." "Oh, what a bore." "Yes, duckie, but it's more than that." "I simply don't understand, I mean, what's the point of having a meeting and subsidies, and, well, all those meetings, if they can't settle something?" "That's mere common sense." "No good at all." "Well, why not?" "Because both sides have to save face." "On one side, longer hours and less wages." "On the other, not a minute more, not a shilling off." "Stalemate." "Saving face...caused the war, now it's causing the strike." "When I think of those miners, and their children starving, I want to weep." "When I think of their leaders, stiff-necked, old-fashioned, dyed-in-the-wool idiots," "I want to weep some more." "And as for our lot, when I think of them, I don't know what to do." "Don't we need a Mussolini?" "Oh, God forbid, duckie!" "You pay for his sort in the long run." "Look at Diaz in Mexico, or Napoleon in France." "Or Cromwell in England, for that matter." "I thought that Charles the second was rather a dear." "Oh, Fleur." "That's it." "I thought for one dreadful minute you'd lost your sense of humor." "You'll see to it that I don't." "Well, I hope so." "Well, what will you do in the House?" "There won't be much to talk about." "No." "We'll just sit and glower at each other, and use the word "formula" at stated intervals." "I came home by the park." "Do you know it's astonishing." "There are lorries and milk-cars and tents everywhere, specials and volunteers, and at Victoria station, chaps in plus-fours manning the signal boxes." "Yes, and little clerks in striped trousers learning how to drive engines." "Pickets everywhere of course, but no ructions." "Some trains will run tomorrow, though god help them all at Clapham junction." "They say we can't organize." "Oh, can't we just, after the event." "Michael." "Do you want to end the strike?" "We have to." "We all have to." "Oh." "Don't you see that?" "Yes, of course." "I'm only a little surprised that you do." "Oh, yes." "Well, the country's life can't be strangled, no matter who is in the right." "Duckie, I've been thinking." "Is there something that you want me to do?" "Well, I think so." "These railway volunteers, they'll want feeding." "Fleur, would you start a canteen for them?" "I mean, we'll have to get all kinds of people in to help." "But it's your quick head that's needed, and your way with men." "Mm, all right.Good. Good." "Yes, yes, I will." "It'll be pretty tough while it lasts, but Fleur, I'll tell you one thing." "There'll be less bloodshed and more good humor than there could be anywhere else in the world." "Hello." "Hello?" "Aunt winifred?" "Oh, Holly!" "How nice." "I was just thinking of ringing you up." "Isn't this strike too absurd?" "Oh, that's one word for it." "Val says he wants to come up and do something, but I won't let him." "No, quite right, with his game leg." "Well, he says the strike won't last." "But guess what, Jon's here." "Who?" "My little brother, with Irene and Anne." "Good gracious." "Jon wants to drive an engine." "These boys!" "They never grow up, do they?" "No." "Anyway we shall be coming up to london today." "I'll drive him." "His wife too?" "No." "Well, Irene?" "Not at the moment." "I thought we'd stay at the Langham." "Oh, no, dear." "You must come here." "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no." "I have plenty of everything." "Soames made me stock up with coal and groceries a whole week ago." "It's awfully kind of you, aunt, but... is cousin Soames with you?" "No, dear, at Mapledurham." "Now, do come." "All right." "Oh, and, by the way, I shall be looking for a job too." "Do you think you could speak to Michael Mont?" "He's bound to be organizing things." "Well, very well, dear." "If you think you should." "Well, thanks awfully, auntie." "I must go." "Goodbye." "Goodbye, dear." "Goodbye." "You rang for me, ma'am." "Did I?" "Oh, yes." "So I did." "Now what for, I wonder?" "Oh, yes, Smither." "Where's The morning post?" "It hasn't come, ma'am." "Hasn't come?" "All on strike." "Newspapers and all." "Aunt bessie heard it on the wireless." "Dear me." "Well, if this strike goes on I shall have to get a wireless myself, though they do crackle so." "Well, thank you, Smither." "oh, there's a gentleman waiting to see you, ma'am." "A mr." "Stainford." "Stainford?" "Stainford?" "He says he's an old friend of mr." "Val's and he'd like a word with you." "Stainford?" "Well, very well, smither, show him in." "Mr. Stainford, ma'am." "Good of you to see me, mrs." "Dartie." "Not at all." "Will you sit down?" "Thank you, no." "Is val up in town?" "No, not at present." "Perhaps you could give me his address." "One loses touch, but we were friends at oxford." "Ah, yes." "He was abroad, you know, for many years, in South africa." "I heard that." "And now he breeds and trains racehorses." "I believe I heard that too." "On the south downs." "Oh!" "Excuse me." "Such a morning." "Hello?" "Ah, hello, Winifred." "Hello?" "Winifred." "I can hardly...who?" "Soames here." "Oh, Soames, dear, it's you." "Would you hold on a moment?" "I'm so sorry." "Not at all, mrs." "Dartie." "I shan't stay, but val's address?" "Oh, yes." "The Manor house, Wansdon, Sussex." "Manor house, Wansdon, Sussex." "I'm obliged to you." "What?" "Just a moment, dear." "Goodbye, mr..." "Now, my dear boy, don't fuss so." "I'm not fussing, I want to know who you've got there." "I have a visitor, a friend of Val'S." "A friend of Val's?" "And now I've been unpardonably rude." "Oh." "Just a moment." "Are you at Mapledurham?" "What?" "Yes, yes, of course I am." "Well what did I tell you?" "It's all rather exciting, don't you know." "It's dangerous, if that's what you mean." "I'm coming up tomorrow to stay with Fleur." "But why, dear?" "I should have thought you'd be so much more..." "I just want to be on hand in case of accidents." "Anyway the car's eating its head off down here." "Might as well be useful." "People are terribly busy about it all." "Oh, and Soames dear, young Jon Forsyte's over here with his wife and Irene." "They're at Wansdon." "Are you there, Soames?" "Oh, have we been cut off?" "No." "Oh." "I'll be up tomorrow." "Goodbye." "Such a morning." "Stainford...stainford... do you know, Smither... these chairs were last re-covered in 1913, just before the war." "A marvelous piece of silk." "Indeed, yes, ma'am." "Shall you be in to luncheon?" "Yes, I believe so." "Now, that's odd." "Smither, there was a snuffbox here." "Louis quinze, rather valuable, it belonged to my father." "At least I thought it was here." "Well, it was, ma'am, this morning." "I remember seeing it when I was dusting." "Then what...?" "Good heavens." "You don't think...?" "Mr. Stainford?" "Yes, yes, perfectly all right, thank you." "Now, I gave Holly your message." "Has she arrived yet?" "No, not yet, but she'll be jolly useful." "She'd better do supplies, I think, you know, instead of standing about serving." "Oh, yes, that will be nice." "It won't." "It's all pretty strenuous." "Yes, well, it can't last of course, the government's bound to do something." "Now, Fleur, dear, has your father come up yet?" "He should be in South square now." "Well, would you ask him to call round tomorrow?" "Something rather disagreeable has happened." "Oh?" "What?" "I don't want to bother you, dear, but I should like to see your father." "Yes, well, I'll tell him." "Aunt, you know, I really must fly." "Goodbye, dear, now don't tire yourself." "Goodbye." "Oh, dear." "Hello?" "Yes?" "This is mrs." "Mont." "What?" "But I've ordered them." "No." "No, really!" "What?" "But I must give them bacon and eggs in the morning." "They can't start on just cocoa." "What do you mean, the company can't afford...?" "Well, please be a dear and tell the manager from me they've got to be properly fed." "Will you?" "Then you are a dear." "Thank you so much." "Fleur?" "Oh, Holly, it's you." "Hello." "Welcome." "Red tape and cheeseparing, that's what we contend with here." "Will you let me help you?" "Rather." "Have you got a car?" "Yes." "Good." "First thing tomorrow then." "Here's a list for Harridge'S." "It's a terrific lot, but buy it all." "Bring it with me?" "Yes, please." "I'll take the risk of the company refusing to pay." "If I have to go round there myself and slobber on that revolting official." "You're rather enjoy it all, aren't you?" "Mm-hm.In a way." "I've discovered a bossy streak." "Horrid." "But it helps here." "I saw Jon in there." "Where did he spring from?" "America, via Paris." "We're all at Green street." "Funny to see him again, all smudgy like that." "His wife with him?" "No, she's at Wansdon with Irene." "It would be fun to see him some time." "He's stoking an engine from 6:00 A.M. Till 10:00 P.M." "I know, but I meant after, if the strike ever ends." "Are they going to live in England?" "Oh, I believe so." "Well, we're both over the measles." "If you get them again grown up, Fleur, they can be pretty bad." "No fear." "Well, I'm off." "I expect Michael's waiting." "I'll be here at 9, before you leave for Harridge's, and if you think of anything else, just stick it on the list." "I'll make them stump up somehow." "Good night, Holly." "Good night, Fleur." "Tired?" "Holly." "All over." "But it's a good feeling." "Oh, I'll drive you home." "Thank you." "I say, how did you know I'd be here?" "Oh, I didn't." "I just came to sign on." "Have they taken you?" "Yes." "Good for you." "Funny coincidence, though." "Well, this coincidence is funnier than most." "Do you know who runs this place?" "Fleur Mont." "Fleur?" "Good lord!" "She's just left." "But is she old enough?" "I mean to run a thing like this?" "It's a first-rate job." "Well, I think she's got a pretty clear head." "For instance, she saw you here this evening, and... saw me?" "And she didn't...?" "Oh." "Oh, I see." "Good morning, dear." "Good morning." "Did you have a good ride?" "Gorgeous!" "Val took me right up over the downs, it was beautiful." "Jon would have loved it." "I've had a note from him." "Oh, and there's one for you." "Oh, how he finds any time... they're working all hours." "He says he doesn't know who to admire most." "All the people somehow getting to work and putting up with everything, or the strikers themselves." "Why does he say that?" "Because of their patience and good humor, what he calls "their solid english decency."" "Yes." "Jon's english all right." "Through and through." "I hardly realized noticed how much until we landed at dover." "I guess we're settled here for the rest of our lives." "Shall you mind?" "No." "It's all strange of course, but, well, it seems like a homey kind of country." "It's so small, all the fields, I mean, all wrapped around in blossom like... is anything wrong?" "No, dear, no, nothing." "I've just got a note here from Holly." "She's starting work at a canteen for railway volunteers." "Jon goes there." "Why, that's fine." "I was thinking... don't you miss him?" "Every minute." "Holly says things are really quite normal." "No sign of trouble." "Wouldn't you like to go up?" "Would I?" "But what about you?" "I shall be perfectly all right here." "Holly tells me they can use all the help they can get." "At this canteen?" "Would they let me?" "Why not?" "Well, if you're sure you don't mind." "She's spoken to val's mother." "You can go there at once." "I don't suppose you'll see much of Jon, but I'm sure it'll be a comfort to him to have you with him." "And to me." "By the way, has he ever spoken to you of a cousin of his?" "A second cousin called Fleur mont?" "Jon hasn't spoken about her, but Francis did when he got home." "Ah, yes." "She just about saved his life." "Well, according to Holly, it is Fleur who is running this canteen." "She must be pretty bright." "Indeed she is." "Now finish your breakfast and then go and pack." "I'll see Val and arrange for you to be driven up." "And when you see Jon, give him my love." "I surely will." "You're quite certain that you saw the snuffbox here that day?" "Indeed, yes, mr." "Soames." "About half an hour before that mr." "Stainford came." "You were dusting?" "Yes, sir." "You think you could have swept it up by mistake?" "Well, could you?" "I'd have noticed." "Yes, I suppose you would." "Oh, well, thank you, smither." "It must have been him." "To think that a man of such distinction..." "Distinction?" "And a friend of Val's too." "I wouldn't mind so much if it hadn't belonged to papa." "Well, that fellow must be a ruffian." "He oughtn't be at large." "What's to be done?" "Well, Scotland yard." "Oh... well, they've got enough to do, I shouldn't wonder." "Ah, there's that chap I used on the Ferrar case." "Yes, he charges very high." "That doesn't matter, Soames... it's all right, I'll see him." "Well, thank you, dear." "Well, how's Fleur?" "Oh, she's overdoing this canteen business." "Well, they say she's running it very well." "I do think all these young women are so smart, so sure of themselves." "Oh, yes, they're sure enough, but you know, steady does it in the long run." "That was all rather a bore you know, soames." "Things move so quickly nowadays." "Yes, like that snuffbox." "Potatoes." "Twenty stone." "Twenty, got that?" "Treacle." "Better let me have large tins." "What are they?" "Five-pound tins." "Well, let's say, seven of those." "No, no, I assure you, treacle pudding's all the rage down here." "Yes, that's right." "Hello." "Oh, hello." "Yes, well if there is anything else, I'll ring you back." "Thank you, goodbye." "Anne?" "Yes?" "How do you do?" "Welcome to the clan." "The clan?" "Oh, Fleur and I were born Forsytes." "You've become one." "Oh." "Oh, that's right." "Well, it's awfully sporting of you to come and help." "If there's anything I can do." "I've wanted so much to meet you." "What you did for Francis... oh, it was nothing." "How is he?" "He was fine when we left." "But he wasn't happy over here, was he?" "I mean before he was ill." "Something happened to him, didn't it?" "Well, a girl happened." "Oh." "Still, he was well out of it." "She wasn't right for him." "I guess not." "Jon's been in and out." "I know." "I haven't had a chance to say hello, but he looked healthy, if a mite grubby." "It gave me quite a shock when I saw him last night." "I had to take the scrubber to him." "Fleur." "Yes, well, we mustn't waste time." "Now, if you go along with Holly, Anne, she'll put you wise." "That sounds nice and homey." "Well, we use all your expressions here." "We mustn't waste any more time." "Excuse me." "Hello?" "Yes, mrs." "Mont speaking." "Oh...no." "No, if the princess is really interested, would you ask her to be kind enough to come when they're feeding?" "Yes." "Yes, tomorrow would do." "What?" "Oh, yes, thank you." "Goodbye." "Ah, you're back." "Have you had anything to eat?" "Heaps." "This canteen business..." "I'm enjoying it frightfully." "Mind you don't catch something down there." "Oh, did you hear a noise?" "Yes, it was a tank." "Looked awfully strange." "Did you know they're sending them down to the docks, Michael says?" "That'll astonish their weak nerves." "Show them the government means business." "I don't know though, they're great extravagant things." "Far too... too military." "That's what Michael says but surely you're all for law and order." "Yes, I know, but well, hang it all, this is England, not Russia or Italy." "I've seen some of those strikers." "They're not danger." "Not a weapon amongst them, as far as I could tell." "Well, I don't expect... you don't suppose they're going to open fire, do you?" "They'd better not." "It's to be hoped they won't wake the baby." "You are a scream." "A scream?" "Whatever next?" "I'm off to bed." "Good night, my dear." "Oh, I've put the car away, duckie." "Oh, hello, sir." "Still up?" "Like a nightcap?" "Oh, no, thank you." "I've still got my wine." "What are they saying at the house?" "Nothing." "And very longwinded they are about it." "What's your opinion of the strike, sir?" "I mean generally, as a weapon?" "For the purposes of suicide, perfect." "I should have thought they'd have realized that by now." "Yes, I rather agree." "But what's the alternative?" "Well, they've got the vote." "Yes, that's always said, somehow parliament seems to matter less and less these days." "Things get settled or unsettled before we get down to dealing with them." "There must be government." "Administration, of course." "But look at this strike." "What can the average M.P.do about it?" "Not much." "But then, parliament always was a talking shop." "Oh, not that I'd like to see it done away with, mind you." "Yes, hang on to that Goya." "It's worth 200 more than I gave for it." "You know, Fleur's overexcited." "Don't let her overdo this canteen of hers." "She's enjoying it, sir." "Gives her head a chance." "Yes." "She's got a good little head, when she doesn't lose it." "Yes, that reminds me, that young Jon Forsyte's over here, they tell me." "Staying at Green street and stoking engines." "It was a boy-and-girl affair, but I thought you ought to know." "Thanks." "No, I hadn't heard." "I don't suppose she has either." "I told them not to tell her." "Do you remember that time in washington, you know, when I was taken ill?" "Yes, sir." "Very well." "Yes, I wasn't." "I saw that young man and his mother talking to you in the... what do call the place, the lobby." "Well I didn't think that, you know, it would be good if Fleur ran into them, so... oh, these things are all very silly, but you never can tell." "No." "You never can tell." "I rather liked the look of him." "I dare say." "He's the son of his father, I expect." "Well..." "this is the end of the old canteen." "Let's powder our noses and get out." "You'll miss it all." "In a way." "You've really done it awfully well." "Anne thinks you're wonderful." "Has anyone told her about Jon and me?" "No." "Well, I'd rather they didn't ." "Of course not." "I'll see to it." "She's a nice child." "Nice, but not important." "Oh, americans are generally important, sooner or later." "To themselves." "Well, so long as they get on together." "They do, I suppose?" "Oh, I haven't seen very much of jon, but I should say it's perfectly successful." "Good." "You all going down to Wansdon?" "The day after tomorrow." "Can I give you a lift?" "Father's collecting me at 4:00." "No thanks, Fleur." "What?" "I'll walk." "Still the same." "Funny how hard things die." "Yes, when you're a Forsyte." "You see, we don't show much." "It's airing feelings that kills them." "Perhaps." "Would you give my love to Jon and Anne?" "I will." "If I've got time I may call in at aunt Winifred's before you all go down." "Well then, I'll tell her to expect you." "My name's Forsyte." "Oh?" "You weren't too difficult to find." "Any reason why I should be?" "That remains to be seen." "You paid a visit to my sister, mrs." "Dartie." "Will you sit down?" "I want to ask you a question." "By all means." "When you were at Green street, did you, by any chance happen to see a louis quinze snuffbox on the table?" "It's disappeared." "We'd like to fix the time of its loss." "Afraid I can't help you." "It has value as an heirloom." "It has obviously been stolen." "Oh sorry." "I noticed nothing but some rather good marquetery." "No snuffbox." "It's unique." "The police won't have any difficulty." "No?" "If that is all, mr." "Forsyte... mr." "Stainford." "I'm as sure as a man can be that you've taken it." "Now, return it to me now and you'll hear no more of the matter." "You can have it." "For 10 pounds." "I can have it for nothing if I call a policeman." "You won't do that." "Why not?" "It isn't done." "Not done!" "Not done?" "Of all the confounded..." "I was at college with your nephew." "As if that has any..." "ten pounds." "I could sell it for 50, but I need the money badly." "I have the box here." "10 pounds." "Well, for sheer confounded brass." "Thanks very much." "Good afternoon." "Now, Michael, you know Harold Blade of course." "At least you must know his wonderful rafaelite work." "Yes, indeed." "He doesn't know me from Adam." "No, really." "But do tell me, why rafaelite?" "Why?" "Well, because he's the only man who's rediscovered the old values." "The old values?" "Well, I thought the academy was... that place?" "Oh, well." "If you still believe in them." "Oh, but I don'T." "Harold is the only rafaelite." "He'll be the last too." "Oh, there's a group forming, as they always do round great painters, but they never amount to much." "Does my father-in-law know your work, mr." "Blade?" "Soames." "He'll be collecting Harold when we're all dead." "Look at this." "Now." "Pure primary line and color." "Do you think they'd hang that in the Academy?" "Boy, their minds are a mystery to me." "I say, I rather like that suggestion of a halo." "I'm going for a walk." "Back for supper." "Goodbye." "Of course, he's the only man to paint Fleur." "Don't you think so?" "Thank you." "He'd get her modern look perfectly." "Oh." "He has such a struggle, with everyone against him." "Would she sit to him?" "Well, I'll ask her." "But do tell me, why is everyone against him?" "Because he's come through all the fashionable crazes." "They think he's a traitor." "Oh, I see." "Oh, it would be a great chance for him if Soames were to commission a portrait." "And Fleur ought to jump at it." "You know, in 10 years' time, Harold will be the man." "Well, I'll sound her out." "By the way, I hear your little brother's back in London." "Have you seen him yet?" "No, not yet." "But I'm hoping to, soon." "Why have you come to see me?" "Well, frankly, I was going to ask... yes." "Be frank." "I want you to tell me about Jon and Fleur, why they broke it up." "I'd have told you before, that day we met in the tea shop." "Remember?" "Yes, very well." "But I didn't think it important." "Well, is it now?" "That's for you to judge." "Do you know about Jon's mother?" "Irene?" "She was Soames' first wife." "Very beautiful, she was." "I met her in america." "But I had no idea she was married... how could you have?" "They didn't get on." "She left him, and years later she married my father and Soames divorced her." "I mean, Soames divorced her and she married my father." "Well, when Jon and Fleur fell in love," "Irene and my father were terribly upset, and so was Soames." "And then?" "The children were told." "Father died suddenly in the middle of it all." "And Jon... well, Jon decided to do as father wished." "He took Irene away, and Fleur married you." "God." "Poor little devils." "Yes, I always thought it wrong." "Irene should have put up with it." "Except, you know, they wouldn't have been happy." "Irene knew that." "Fleur's too selfish." "What?" "You're a good sort." "Too good for her." "Yes." "Oh, she isn't bad, but she's a selfish little creature." "That isn't so." "Sit down." "I only speak the truth, you know." "Oh, of course it was all horrible." "Soames and my father were first cousins." "And those children were dreadfully in love." "I don't know." "Yes, they should have been allowed to settle it between them." "It was their lives." "Hm." "I thought so too, at the time but now, perhaps it was all for the best." "You're happy, aren't you?" "Oh, I am." "But is she?" "Good morning, Smither." "Why, miss Fleur." "You're up bright and early." "Well, business, Smither." "Is anyone down yet?" "Only mr." "Jon, miss." "Well, I really came to see mrs." "Val Dartie." "You know, canteen accounts." "But mr." "Jon will do for the moment." "Where is he?" "They're in the parlor,miss." "With the painter." "It's funny to see them out again, isn't it?" "I'll be serving his breakfast in a minute, miss." "Well, then i'll just go straight in." "And Smither, bring a cup for me." "Very good, miss." "Fleur." "Fleur." "Hello, Jon." "Did I feed you well?" "Splendidly." "Well, how are you, Fleur?" "Not tired after all that?" "No, not a bit." "How did you like stoking?" "Oh, fine, after the first day." "It's good hard work." "Anne isn't down yet." "She'll be sorry not to see you." "She thinks you're a wonder." "Well, she was quite a help." "Nearly seven years, Jon." "I never thought I'd see you again." "You haven't changed much." "Well, nor have you." "I have, a lot." "Well, I don't see it." "I came to see Holly." "Canteen accounts." "An anticlimax, but it has to be done." "I expect she'll be down soon." "Not too soon, I hope." "Well, how does England feel?" "Topping." "I'm back for life." "Anne says she doesn't mind." "Are you going to settle here?" "I expect so." "Somewhere near Val and Holly," "I think,if we can find the right farm." "Still keen on growing things?" "Oh, yes." "More than ever." "Farmer Jon." "Any poetry?" "Oh, not much." "Pretty dull, anyway." "A voice in the night crying down from the old sleeping spanish city" "darkened under her white stars." "Good lord!" "You remember?" "How could I forget?" "You sent it to me from Spain." "Yes." "Yes, I did." "Do you remember our walk up to Chanctonbury?" "I remember everything, Fleur." "That's honest." "So do I." "It took me a long time to remember how to forget." "How long did it take you?" "Oh, still longer, I expect." "Well, Michael's the best man I know." "And Anne's the best woman." "We're lucky, aren't we?" "Things fall on their feet." "Yes." "Yes, they do." "How old is she?" "She's 21." "Just right." "I was always too old for you." "Weren't we young fools?" "No!" "It was... it was natural and...beautiful." "Still the idealist." "Did Francis say much about me?" "Only that you had a lovely house." "Come and see it." "And that you nursed him like an angel." "Oh, no angel." "A young woman of fashion." "There's still a difference, you know." "You didn't tell Anne about us, did you?" "How did you know that?" "By the way she looks at me." "Well, why should I tell her?" "No reason." "No reason in the world." "It's all over." "And we're not children anymore, are we, Jon?" "No." "Oh, excuse me, mr." "Jon, but your breakfast is on the table." "Thank you, Smither." "I'm ravenous." "Well, Fleur." "Well, Jon?" "I've put a cup out for you, miss Fleur." "Oh." "Well, in that case, thank you very much." "Oh, Holly." "Good morning, Fleur." "Morning, Holly." "Morning, Jon." "It's been nice seeing you again, Jon." "Yes." "Goodbye, Fleur." "Au revoir." "Well, Fleur." "Why so early?" "Now, these accounts..." "oh, dear." "I have to see that official assert at 10." "There are three items here." "I've marked them query." "Bacon." "Flour." "Potatoes." "Are these the amounts that you ordered?" "Well, let me see." "Bacon, yes." "Yes." "Yes." "Good." "Good, I'll tick them off." "Oh, I think..." "when are you going to Wansdon?" "Oh, probably tomorow ." "Make it the day after, and come to lunch, all four of you." "Well, do you think that would be wise, Fleur?" "Well, I know it would be pleasant." "I'd like Jon and Anne to meet Michael." "And Kit, of course." "Well...shall we say 1:00?" "Must fly." "Mustn't keep bureaucrats waiting." "Fleur, dear." "How nice." "I'm just off." "See you all tomorrow." "Oh, well." "That was very sudden." "What did she come for?" "She said she came to see me about some canteen accounts." "Oh?" "Did you make a mistake?" "No, I didn't." "And she knew I hadn't." "Don't be cryptic, dear." "It's too early in the day." "What did she come for?" "She... she came to ask us all to lunch tomorrow." "Oh." "How nice." "Yes, but... yes, excellent thought." "Jon and Michael haven't met, have they?" "Well, I think they should." "Oh, it's you." "Still rattling about?" "Not anymore, duckie." "Canteen's finished." "I'm out of a job." "Good thing too." "Wearing yourself to a shadow." "I should think you'd be only too glad to have a bit more time for kit." "He's a rascal." "You know what he asked me for this morning?" "What?" "A hammer." "He loves breaking things up." "Children." "Did you give him one?" "I hadn't got one." "And what should I be doing with a hammer?" "You make more fuss of him than anyone." "Well, little chap's got a twinkle." "Mercifully." "Did you spoil me?" "I can't tell." "Do you feel spoiled?" "When I want things, I want them." "Yes, I dare say." "Well, you're not unique in that." "Weather seems settled." "Good." "May I bring Kit down to Mapledurham for a few days?" "Of course." "When?" "Say the day after tomorrow?" "Yes, certainly." "Good." "I only thought I'd mention it in case you want to go down there ahead of us, say tomorrow morning." "Oh, I'll go this afternoon." "If I'm not there, they won't air the beds properly." "That's nonsense." "But still... yes, there's nothing like country air after that canteen." "Good." "Yes, we'll have a bit of golf down there." "Good idea." "Hm." "Yes, I think I'm middle-aged enough for golf." "Oh!" "Michael." "Are you home for lunch?" "Yes." "Golly." "Well, what have you been up to?" "Oh, sitting on some moldy old committee to do with the ministry of health." "They're supposed to be discussing birth control." "No!" "Yes." "Well, are they for or against?" "I don't think they have the faintest idea." "Bad luck." "So there I sat for two hours, listening to arguments why i should oppose for other people what I practice myself." "Ridiculous." "So, what did you say?" "Well, I said they've got to speed up emigration." "Oh, Michael." "I know, darling, but I said if they don't, then there's nothing for it but birth control." "I went on to say... that as our lot are doing it all the time, and blinking the moral issue, if there is one," "I really didn't how we could insist on a moral issue for anyone else." "Particularly those who can't afford to support a lot of children when they have them." "I don't think the country's ready for opinions like that." "No, you're probably right." "Darling, would you do me up?" "Yes, of course." "Michael, will you be home for lunch tomorrow?" "I think so." "I've got to see uncle Hilary..." "Sorry.It's all right." "Uncle Hilary in the afternoon." "Why?" "I've asked aunt Winifred to bring Holly, and Jon and Anne Forsyte." "Yes." "Well, I thought they'd all been such bricks during the strike, and... well, you don't mind, do you?" "No, no, of course not." "Dad's going home tomorrow morning." "You won't tell him, will you?" "Why not?" "Well, he's so prejudiced." "It's primitive and idiotic." "Yes, it is rather." "Daddy's coming down for lunch in a minute." "Ah." "Good morning, Coaker." "Are you well?" "Thank you, ma'am." "Mr. And mrs." "Mont are in the drawing room." "Then we'll just go in, shall we?" "Come along, dears." "I'll lead the way." "Come in, Winifred." "Fleur, dear, here we all are." "How lovely you look." "My dear girl." "Freddie, how are you?" "Oh, my dear boy." "Hello, Michael.Hello, holly." "Are you well?" "Darling, this is Jon and Anne Forsyte." "This is my husband, Michael." "Well, just fancy that." "We meet again." "Good lord." "Was Fleur with you in Washington?" "Yes." "Isn't that fantastic?" "Darling, have I been kept in the dark?" "It was the hotel Potomac, you remember that day your father was ill in Washington?" "Yes, I remember." "I met them in the hotel foyer." "Ships that pass in the night." "Yes." "It can't have been all that dark." "Irene was there, wasn't she?" "You don't think that cousin Soames...?" "Sh!" "Discretion." "Well, everybody, do come sit down." "Darling, they'd all like a drink." "Of course." "Cocktail, everyone?" "Thank you." "Splendid." "Anne, do sit there." "Thanks." "How long did you spend in the states?" "Four weeks, coast to coast." "That's compulsory, isn't it?" "I guess so, though I haven't seen it." "Strictly for tourists." "What else?" "San Francisco, the rockies." "You know, the usual." "Did you see the south?" "No, but feel as though I've been there." "How come?" "Well, your brother, Francis." "Oh, yes, he surely loves his country." "It does grow on you, and, of course, some of it is very beautiful." "Prettier than Richmond park?" "Oh, you must forgive our insularity, Anne." "We like our scenery cozy." "Well, so do I." "Well, Anne if you haven't been there, why don't we all go down there this afternoon after lunch?" "What do you say, aunt winifred?" "Yes, dear, I haven't been there for years, and the chestnuts will be out." "Splendid." "And on the way back, Jon, we can look in at Robin hill." "Your old home, Jon." "Oh, yes, do let's." "But what about the potentate?" "The what?" "Lord Abberley." "I mean, he bought the place." "Oh, no." "He won't be there." "He's abroad somewhere." "Bangkok or Bangalore." "It was in the papers." "Well, then, that's settled." "We'll bribe the butler, and we'll all go round." "Darling, can you come?" "No." "Uncle Hilary." "Besides, the car will only take five, I'm afraid." "Luncheon is served, madam." "Thank you, Coaker." "Would you ask nanny to bring down Kit to join us for dessert?" "Yes, madam." "Thank you." "Would you like to see our son?" "Oh, I'd just love to see him." "Is he like you or michael?" "Well...a bit of both." "Yes." "Well, everybody, shall we go in?" "Anne, do take your sherry with you, if you'd like to." "Winifred, you must tell Anne about when the house was..." "Do you mind if I don't come with you?" "To Robin hill, I mean." "It's just that... no, that's all right, Holly." "I'm not too keen myself." "But, well..." "Anne seems to be." "Quite natural." "But so does Fleur." "I wonder why." "Have you forgotten?" "It used to belong to her father." "Come on." "So that's the famous view." "Well, don't you think?" "Yes, it's very pretty." "Yes." "My uncle Swithin admired it." "You know, they used to call him four-in-hand forsyte, though why, I can't tell, because he always drove a pair." "You know, I remember the day, it must be 40 years ago, when he drove Irene down here and they had a crash on the way home." "Oh, that caused a sensation on Forsyte change, well, Anne, dear, what do you think of it?" "Oh, it's gorgeous." "Such a beautiful setting." "I guess the house was considered pretty avant-garde when they built it." "Oh, outrageous!" "I never saw it myself, but my father came down once." "I remember his saying..." "Jon, the copse." "It's still there." "And all the bluebells will be out." "Shall we go down to the old log, where we met your mother and our stars were crossed?" "Oh,Jon." "You always were silent, weren't you?" "But your poems spoke for you." "I don't write any now." "No?" "Now, who was it that said that poetry is emotion recollected in tranquility?" "Perhaps you're not tranquil enough." "You don't look tranquil." "Or is it that you've forgotten the emotion?" "Fleur, I thought we'd settled this..." "And a good thing too." "Emotion's old-fashioned." "Shall we re-join the tour?" "Well, Michael?" "What do you think of the meads?" "Not much." "There's worse." "Oh, I don't believe you." "Oh, yes." "That's why I wanted you to see this, rather than tell you about it." "Anyway, we've bought this street." "Bought it?" "Well, who owned it?" "He lived in Capri." "I don't suppose he ever saw it." "He died the other day, and we got it quite reasonably." "How much?" "Thirty-two thousand." "Oh, good lord.Is it paid for?" "Well, no." "We've paid the deposit." "And we've got till september to pay the rest." "Don't touch the walls." "If you make a dent, the genuine article stalks forth." "Bugs?" "In their legions." "But each one of these houses is to be gutted and made as bright as a new pin." "And how long will that take you?" "About three years." "And the money?" "We'll win, wangle or scrounge it." "Uncle, are you telling me people want to live here?" "Simple economics." "Where else can they live so cheaply?" "No, where else could they live at all?" "Council flats." "They don't like them." "Besides, the rents are too high." "No, we've found that we can put houses like this into good, habitable condition at a fraction over the old rents, and pay two and a half percent on our outlay." "If we can do that here, it can be done for slums everywhere." "But you'll need a packet." "Where's it to come from?" "A general slum conversion fund." "Bonds at two percent with bonuses, repayable in 20 years." "How will you repay them?" "Oh, like the government." "By issuing more." "There must be people, rich people with a conscience, who are prepared to invest a small portion of their wealth at this rate of interest if it means the elimination of the slums." "Yes, possibly." "Well, who's to start this general fund?" "You, my dear boy." "You." "What that's why I brought you down here." "I can't go round starting general funds." "I thought you might like a cup of tea, mr." "Charwell." "I'm having one meself." "Thank you." "Well, it's always a comfort, isn't it?" "This is my nephew." "Mrs. Brewer, mr." "Michael Mont." "How do you do?" "Nicely, thank you." "Your uncle tells me you're an M.P." "Is that right?" "Yes, for mid-bucks." "My God." "They don't half catch them young, don't they?" "Here." "Do you like sugar?" "No, thank you." "Your uncle does, and you ought to." "Gives you energy and "it."" "Mrs. Brewer knows my wicked ways." "Yes." "Mr. Charwell, is it true you've bought the street?" "Do you mind?" "Well that depends, don't it?" "I mean, you won't turn us out?" "Not for the world, mrs." "Brewer." "Oh, there." "I said to them, "he might clean up our insides," I said," ""but he won't turn us out." "Not the vicar," I said." "We'll find you lodgings when we come to the time to do this house up." "And then you'll come back here to new walls and ceilings." "No more bugs." "And proper washing arrangements." "Electricity too." "That'll be the day." "It'll come." "Talk about bugs." "Oh, mr." "Mont, why you wouldn't credit it." "The last time brewer drove a nail in... well, the life in there." "Barnum and Bailey ain't in it." "Well, I'll leave you to your confab." "So long, mr." "Mont." "And help yourself to another cup of tea." "Thanks, mrs." "Brewer." "Salt of the earth, Michael, but what can they do?" "You must come in with us." "Must I?" "Tell me, uncle Hilary, have you heard of foggartism?" "Oh, yes, but you won't have a hope with that here." "Taking town children away from their parents?" "No, not a hope." "But the future shouldn't be so bound up with the towns." "It will be." "Well, who knows?" "One day there may be a city in mid-bucks." "Oh, God forbid." "I doubt if he will." "Now, what I want you to do is to get together an appeals committee, as high-powered as you can." "Sir Timothy Fanfield, for instance." "Fanfield?" "He's got it in for the slum landlords." "Yes." "Old shropshire on the electrification issue." "One of the big doctors." "A really whacking financier, preferably honest." "Anyway, I'll leave all that to you." "And then, when you've got them, I'll come down and talk their hind legs off." "What do you say?" "well, all right." "Good boy." "I'll try." "Mr. Dartie." "Hello, greenwater." "Anything amiss?" "Well, I hope not, mr." "Dartie, but there might be." "There was a son of a gun watching the gallops this morning." "The devil there was." "Rondavel." "Yes." "Yes, someone's been talking." "When they come watching a little stable like this... something's up." "But we haven't even mentioned the colt." "I know, mr." "Dartie." "The glasses were on him." "If you take my advice, you'll send him to ascot." "You think so?" "Well, let him run his chance on thursday." "We can ease him after, and bring him again for goodwood." "You afraid of overtiring him?" "He's fit now, and that's a fact." "I had the boy give him a shakeup this morning, and he just left them all standing." "I wish you'd been there." "Who can you get to ride at this notice?" "Young adams." "You've got it all cut and dried." "All right, greenwater.We'll go in force." "Good morning, mr." "Greenwater." "Morning, ma'am." "Val, did you know you have a visitor?" "No, who?" "A mr." "Stainford." "What?" "Isn't he the one that...?" "Yes." "Where is he?" "Bridget put him in the breakfast room." "Good god." "The silver." "It's all right." "I've been in there doing flowers." "Did he talk to you at all?" "A little." "Of all the confounded nerve!" "He's trying so hard to pretend." "It's pathetic, val.Tragic, I think." "Deal gently with him." "Well, that rather depends on what he's come for." "But tell me, could he have heard what Greenwater was saying out here?" "No." "No, I'm sure he couldn't." "I didn't." "Good." "Excuse me." "Hello." "Ah, Dartie." "I heard you had a stable down here." "Thought I'd look in on my way to Brighton." "Good of you." "They tell me you've got a two-year-old by kaffir out of sleeping dove." "Is he any use?" "So-so." "When are you going to run him?" "You know better than to ask me that." "I just thought you'd like me to work your commission." "I could do it much better than the pro'S." "Sorry, but I don't bet at all." "Is that possible?" "I say, Dartie, I didn't mean to bother you." "But if you could lend me, say, 30 pounds?" "Sorry, I keep hardly any money down here at all." "A check, perhaps?" "No." "Now, look here, Stainford... how did you get here?" "By car, from Horsham." "Oh, and that reminds me." "I haven't a sou with me to pay for it." "Well, here's a fiver, if that's any use to you." "But I'm really not game for any more." "I never forgot when I was at Oxford and damned hard-pressed," "I once lent you all the money I had." "You never paid me back, although you came into money that very term." "Oxford." "Another life." "Well, goodbye, Dartie." "And thanks." "Hope you'll have a good season." "Who is it?" "Irene." "Come in." "May I sit with you for a little?" "Or are you just going to bath?" "No." "No, I had my bath... and began to change, and then I looked out of the window," "and what with the scent of flowers and those doves... well, I guess I started daydreaming." "Do sit down." "Thank you, dear." "Jon not home yet?" "Not yet." "I hope it means he likes Greenhill." "I mean, if he didn't think the farm was okay, why, he'd have come home right away." "Yes." "Didn't you want to go with him?" "To see it?" "Of course, but I can go later, when he's made up his mind." "You leave it entirely to Jon?" "Oh, yes." "He knows what he wants." "And after all, he has to work the land." "I'd only be a distraction." "What about the house?" "If the land is his, the house is yours." "Well, I'll tell you." "The day after Jon talked about Greenhill," "I went over there, by myself." "You didn't." "Oh, yes, I did." "Deep." "Yes, wasn't it?" "So?" "So..." "I fell in love with it." "But you didn't tell Jon." "Why, no." "Supposing the soil wasn't right, or the price to high." "I wouldn't want him thinking he had to have it because of me." "You know, Anne, you're growing into a very wise woman." "Maybe, in some things." "Not all." "The trouble is... the trouble is I think I love him too much." "Don't ever think that." "Jon is a decent man." "I know." "Worth loving." "I know that, too." "Well, then." "Why did you suggest that I go to London at the time of the strike?" "So that you could be with Jon." "And because he might see Fleur?" "Perhaps." "What did you think of fleur?" "I think she's lovely.Yes." "And clever and quick.Yes." "And polished." "Everything I'm not." "Not everything, thank god." "She did love him once, didn't she?" "When they were young." "What makes you say that?" "The way she looks at him." "Or rather, the way she doesn't look." "I didn't notice." "I didn't notice anything, until that day we went to Robin hill." "Irene, what is it about that place?" "That's hard to say in a few words." "It was designed and built by... by a rather wonderful young man." "His name was Philip Bosinney." "If Philip had lived... but he didn't." "I lived there peacefully for 20 years with Jon's father." "Jon was born there." "For 20 years, Anne, that house was a place of great happiness." "No, longer than that, because uncle Jolyon spent his last years at Robin hill." "It's a part of Forsyte history." "But Fleur." "What has it got to do with Fleur?" "Fleur?" "Didn't they tell you that?" "Didn't they tell you that it was Fleur's father who first owned the house?" "That it was Soames Forsyte who commissioned it from Philip Bosinney?" "No." "But shouldn't I be told?" "Don't you think I ought to know all about it?" "And about Jon and Fleur?" "Yes." "Yes, Anne, I think perhaps you should." "Look... the central figure of a committee like this has got to be magnetic." "He's got to appeal to the general public." "Difficult, difficult." "One thing's certain." "You cannot afford cleverness." "Why not?" "The public's suffered too much from cleverness." "It worries them." "No." "Character's the thing." "Oh, Bart!" "Yes, I know." "Out of date with you young folks." "I have it!" "Wilfred Bentworth, last of the squires." "Old Bentworth?" "He is only my age, and he has nothing to do with politics." "Yes, but he's stupid." "Stupid?" "No." "Refused a peerage three times." "Think of the effect of that." "Oh, yes." "But Bart!" "The professional honest man?" "He is honest." "Yes, I know, and every time he speaks, he alludes to it." "True, true." "But Michael, he's got 20,000 acres and knows all about fattening stock." "He's on a railway board." "County cricket, chairman of a big hospital." "Everybody knows him, he invites royalty to shoot, goes back to saxon times." "In any other country, he'd frighten the life out of such a scheme, but in England... yes." "Yes, I see your point." "Clearly, he has nothing to gain, and isn't clever enough to cheat, even if he wanted to." "Right." "What about you, Bart?" "Will you come on the committee?" "Well, if you'd like to have me, it's time I did some work again." "Splendid!" "Well, we'll go and see Bentworth together, and then we'll go on and see old Shropshire." "Very well." "By the way, what does Fleur think of this "slum proposition,"" "as the yanks would say?" "Well, here she is." "Why don't you ask her?" "Oh, my dear." "A good idea, I think." "Better than birth control." "At least everybody knows what the slums are." "Better than foggartism." "Oh, yes." "Poor old foggartism." "Fleur, darling, Bart and I have got to go and see some rather important people, so I'll see you at dinner." "Oh, will you be back, Bart?" "Father's in town." "Oh, thank you, if I may." "Good." "Well, goodbye, my dear." "Come along, Bart." "Goodbye, darlings." "Goodbye." ""When a man's in love with someone he must be indeed a dumb one"" "Mrs. Mont speaking." "Hello, dear." "It's you, aunt Winifred.How are you?" "I'm well, Fleur, and I hope you are." "Yes, very well, thank you." "Good." "Now, I've just had a letter from Holly." "It appears that Val has a horse running at Ascot on gold cup day." "In the gold cup?" "But how thrilling." "Not in it, dear." "Val's horse is too small for that." "Or too young, I'm not sure which." "He's only two years old." "Imagine." "Now, they'll all be going, of course." "And I thought it might be rather amusing if I got up a little party too." "Imogen and Jack, of course, and you and Michael." "Well, it sounds delightful." "I'll certainly come, though whether Michael... he's got a new slogan, you know, "broader gutters."" "Oh." "No, no, no, it's only aunt Winifred." "Do you want to speak to her?" "Um...no." "So sorry, aunt Winifred." "Dad's just come in." "Ask him if he'd like to come too." "I don't suppose he's even seen a racecourse." "Well, no, no, I'm sure he won't." "Ask him, dear." "He ought to get about more." "Aunt winifred's taking a party to Ascot, and she wants to know if you'll come." "What's that?" "Well, why not ." "Yes, I'd like to know what goes on." "Just once, anyway." "Yes." "Tell her I'll come." "He says he will." "Delightful." "Has he got a gray topper?" "Um, daddy, have you...?" "Fleur." "Fleur, dear.Yes?" "Don't say anything to him, Fleur." "Just get him one." "Size seven and a quarter." "And Fleur, tell them to heat the hat and squash it in at the sides, otherwise they're too round for him." "Heat it and squash it in at the sides?" "Yes." "All right, then, aunt Winifred." "Well, that'll be fun." "Goodbye." "Goodbye, dear." "What on earth do you want to go to Ascot for?" "Oh, well, I don't know." "They tell me it's the national pastime." "The sport of kings, duckie." "Yes, that may be." "They talk about nothing else at my barber'S." "A sovereign on this, a fiver on the other." "I don't suppose half of them have ever seen a horse." "Well, the idea is to get something for nothing." "That's human nature." "Yes, well, I shall go because..." "I like to know what's going on." "Yes." "Yes, you do, duckie, don't you?" "Bentworth?" "Has he agreed to sit on this committee?" "Yes, sir." "What's he got to do with slums?" "Well, he doesn't approve of vermin, sir." "Well, who does?" "And he's all for improving the human stock." "I see." "His shorthorns are good." "A solid fellow behind the times." "But that's we want you, Marquess." "My dear young Mont, I'm too old." "Oh, on the contrary." "Frankly, sir, we've come to you because part of my uncle Hilary's plan is the electrification of the kitchens." "As an authority, you'll keep that well to the fore." "Hilary charwell." "I once heard him preach in st." "Paul'S." "Most amusing." "What do the slum-dwellers say to electrification, eh?" "Well, nothing till it's done, of course, but when it is done, they're delighted." "It appears there are no flies on your uncle." "Yes, and with electricity, we hope, no flies on anything else." "Well, it's the right end of the stick." "Well, marquess?" "Well, I'd like to." "My trouble is, I've no money, and I don't like appealing to others if I can't put down something substantial myself." "I suppose you don't know anyone who'd like to buy some lace?" "Point de venise, the real stuff." "Or, I have a morland." "Well, my father-in-law was saying the other day he wanted a morland." "Has he a good home for it?" "It's a white pony." "It'll be in good company, sir." "Any chance of it going to the nation in time?" "Every chance, I should think." "well, then perhaps your father-in law would come and have a look at it." "Well, that's very handsome of you, marquess." "Not at all." "I believe in electricity, and I detest smoke." "This seems a movement in the right direction." "Your father-in-law, mr." "Forsyte, surely?" "Yes, sir." "He's quite well-known as a collector." "Yes, I remember there was a law case." "My granddaughter, Marjorie Ferrar, and your wife." "But that's all over." "I trust you're friends again." "Well, we're on speaking terms when we meet, which isn't often." "Nothing lasts with you young people." "What do you say, Mont, eh?" "Why, the younger generation seem to have forgotten the war already." "Is that such a bad thing, marquess?" "Oh, I don't complain." "Rather the contrary." "Have some Madeira." "Oh, thank you." "By the way, you'll need someone with plenty of money on this committee of yours." "One of the new men, I should think." "Can you suggest someone?" "Well, my next-door neighbor might serve." "A fellow called Montras." "Came from nowhere and made millions, I believe, out of elastic bands." "Has some sort of patent for making them last just long enough." "I wish I'd thought of it myself." "Do you know him, marquess?" "No, but I see him sometimes." "He gazes at me longingly." "But then, I don't use them." "Elastic bands, I mean." "Perhaps if you mention my name... oh, don't worry, marquess, we shall." "He has a wife, and no title at present." "I should guess he might be looking for some public work." "Well, he sounds just the man." "Do you think we ought to venture now?" "Try." "A domestic character, I'm told." "Oh." "Then we ought to find him at home." "Imagine." "Every kitchen in the slums, electrified." "Any man who helped financially toward that would earn his knighthood better than most." "Eh, young Mont?" "Oh, yes, yes, I agree." "True public service." "I suppose we mustn't... dangle the knighthood." "In these days, no, I think not." "Just give him the names of his colleagues on the committee." "The man can't be a fool, or he wouldn't be so rich." "Well, thank you very much, marquess." "We'll let you know how it goes." "Please do." "You know, I like to see young politicians taking an interest in the future of England." "Because, in fact, no amount of politics will prevent her having one." "That's my own opinion exactly, sir." "Good." "By the way, have you had your own kitchen electrified?" "Well, my wife and i were thinking about it, sir." "Don't think." "Have it done." "Eh, young Mont?" "Well, we certainly shall, now." "Yes, now's the time." "We must strike while the coal strike is on." "If there's anything shorter than the public's memory," "I'm not aware of it." "Is my father down yet?" "Not yet, ma'am." "Miss Forsyte is here." "Who?" "Miss June Forsyte, ma'am." "She's in the drawing room." "Oh!" "Well, thank you." "Fragonard." "Chardin." "It's a flimsy school, that, but I like your room." "Harold Blade's pictures would look splendid in here." "Do you know his work?" "No." "No, I'm afraid I don't." "Oh." "Well, anyway, do sit down." "Is mr." "Blade one of your discovery?" "Yes." "He's a genius." "Oh, well then, what happened to that polish-american chap," "Boris something-or-other." "Oh, completely gone to pieces, utterly." "Married and does purely commercial work." "Oh, he gets big prices now, for absolute rubbish." "Oh, poor chap." "Yes, it is a pity." "So Jon and his wife are back in England." "Yes, they seem to have abandoned America for good." "I can't see Anne being happy here." "Thank you, no." "Holly tells me you went to America." "Did you see Jon there?" "No, not quite." "I wonder if there's an opening for Harold's work there?" "Do you think they'd like it?" "Well, it's difficult to say, not knowing his work." "Oh, yes." "I want you to sit for a portrait." "Will you?" "Your father really ought to arrange it, you know, Fleur." "I mean, with your position in society, and especially after that case last year." "Well, it all helps." "Oh, it would be the making of poor Harold, and... well, at least come and see his work." "Yes, I should like to." "Have you seen Jon yet?" "No." "They're coming on friday." "I hope I shall like Anne." "Do you?" "Jon's choice?" "Of course." "What time are you generally in?" "Between 5:00 and 7:00 would be best." "Harold goes out then." "He has my studio, you know." "I can show you his work much better without him." "He's so touchy... but extraordinary with women." "I want him to paint anne too." "Well, then shouldn't Jon see him first?" "Oh, perhaps." "What about your father?" "Well, if I decide to be painted, then leave my father to me." "Very well." "Soames instinctively likes the wrong thing, but if you tell him... well, he always spoils you." "Well, I'll come." "Splendid." "Perhaps not this week." "I shall expect you." "Is your husband well?" "A nice man." "I think so." "I don't know if Harold will like your hair." "Well, I'm afraid I can't change it for him." "Would you like a drink?" "My father will be down in a minute." "Oh, I don't think I particularly want to meet him." "Well, I expect he'll feel just the same!" "Good evening, Soames." "Good evening." "Goodbye, Fleur." "Good night, June." "What does that woman want here?" "Nothing much." "She's a stormy petrel." "She's got another painter." "Oh, some lame duck or other." "She's famous for them." "Has been all her life, ever since she... she wouldn't come here." "without wanting something." "Did she get it?" "No more than I did." "What's all this about Michael and the slums?" "Oh, he's head over ears." "What?" "In debt?" "Oh, good gracious me, no, duckie." "The slums have replaced fogartism" "I hardly ever see him." "Slums need dealing with,no doubt." "He's got to have something to do." "Michael's too good to live." "Oh?" "Well, all I know is, he's very trustful." "That's not your failing, is it, duckie?" "You don't trust me a bit." "Not trust you?" "!" "And why not?" "Exactly." "I suppose june wanted me to buy a picture." "No, she wants you to have me painted." "Oh?" "Does she?" "What's the name of her lame duck?" "Harold Blade,I think." "Never heard of him." "I expect you will." "That woman's like a limpet." "It's in the blood." "Forsyte blood?" "Yes." "You and I too, then." "Yes." "You and I too." "Isn't that nice?" "Oh, splendid." "There we are, uncle Soames." "Yes." "You'll see everything from here." "That fellow Riggs took his time getting here, didn't he?" "Oh, no, uncle." "That was Jack's doing." "When he's got to go through eton, he always likes to go through Harrow first." "Do have my glasses, sir." "Mama, I think we'll just go down to the paddock." "Is that all right?" "Yes Come along, Jack." "You do look well in that hat, dear." "White elephant." "Not at all." "It'll last you for years." "The great thing is to prevent the moth getting at it between seasons." "Oh." "Fleur?" "Aren't you going to get cold in that flimsy thing?" "Of course not." "It'll rain, I shouldn't wonder." "What a lot of cars coming down." "I do think it's splendid that so many people should have the money." "Know where they get it from." "Consols going down, factories closing all over the country." "Soames, look!" "The royal procession." "It's all rather splendid, don't you think?" "Fancy driving up like that." "I think it's so amusing." "Where have the others gone?" "Jack's taken them down to the paddock." "Paddock?" "What for?" "To look at the horses, dear." "Oh." "Oh, yes." "I'll follow them down, I think." "There we are." "Thank you." "Why, this is just great." "Hey, what's next?" "It's the gold cup." "Well, what do you all fancy?" "There's a creature here called Solario." "Is he any good, Val?" "Good?" "What do you say, Greenwater?" "Best in the field, mrs." "Forsyte." "Yes, but will he stay in the running?" "Well, barring accidents, he'll walk it." "Will you back him for me, dear?" "Solario?" "Not much, now." "Don't you want to come down and see them in the paddock?" "I think not." "I'm very comfortable here." "I think I should stay too." "You're coming?" "Yes, please." "Come on, then." "We'll see you later." "Ten bob each way on..." "I can't pronounce it." "Well, if you really want to chuck money away... but I do, Val." "That's what I came for." "There they go." "Last chance of a flutter, uncle Soames." "A what?" "A bet." "Look, sir." "There's the favorite." "Where?" "Rutherford's Solario, Joe child's up." "That's the one." "What do you think of him?" "Nice enough nag." "He'll should start about evens." "I hope to God he beat the frenchman." "We want a cup or two left in the country." "Frenchman?" "What frenchman?" "Priori the second." "Where?" "There." "Damn fine horse." "Indeed, yes." "Well, Jack, put me a fiver on the englishman." "We've just got time to see his from thels before saddling Rondavel." "Greenwater?" "Hello, Jon." "Hello, fleur." "I didn't expect to see you here." "Must you say that sort of thing?" "Oh, small talk." "One has to say something." "Have you backed a horse?" "Yes, yes." "Pons asinorum." "You?" "The french one, of course." "Come on." "Shall we get down to the rails?" "You've got Anne all day and all night." "Come with me for a change." "Excuse me." "I can't see mine anywhere." "Oh, lord, yes, there he is, miles behind." "What's in front?" "I think it's Solario." "No, no, it's not." "It's that french beast!" "Come on!" "Come on!" "Whatever your name is!" "Well done, that horse." "Oh!" "Bad luck, Fleur." "Yours was second." "Did you back him each way?" "No." "For me, it's all or nothing." "Yes." "Yes, that's like you." "Well..." "Jon, shall we see Rondavel win from here?" "Come on, Jon, please." "I want to talk to you." "Have you found a place to grow things yet?" "Yes." "A place near Wansdon, Greenhill farm." "Plenty of fruit, a lot of grass, some arable." "If Anne likes it, then... yes, of course." "I've been thinking, in spite of everything, we can be friends, can't we?" "I hope so." "Can you spot Rondavel?" "Oh, look!" "There he is." "Green with a yellow sash." "Oh, yes, I've got him." "Val's horse won, dear." "Isn't that nice?" "I'm tired." "There's too much noise out here." "I'll go and wait in the car." "So you see, Jon, we don't have to worry, do we?" "This isn't the romantic age." "What do you mean by that?" "Well, I think it's rot to talk about ages being this or that." "I mean, human feelings remain the same." "Nothing's worth more than a tear or two." "I found that out." "But I forgot." "You hate cynicism." "Is Anne still enjoying England?" "Yes." "Yes, she's loving it." "I expect she's picking up english fast." "You don't like her." "Like her?" "Jon, of course I do." "And here she is." "Hello, Jon." "Did you see the race?" "Yes, from the rails." "I say, Val, congratulations." "Oh, thanks." "We got a shocking price, only four to one." "Yes, someone must have known something." "Devilish odd." "No stable money on." "Hello, Julia." "Come along, darling." "We must get together soon." "Yes, we'll do that, sometime." "Goodbye, Jon." "Well done, Val." "Bye-bye, Fleur." "Hello, my darling." "Have you had a good day?" "If you mean did I win any money, no." "Oh, bad luck." "No, racing's all right." "It takes you out of yourself." "That was the beauty of the canteen." "Oh, Michael, find me another job." "Oh, well, that's easy." "Joint secretary with me of the slums conversion fund." "Are they worth converting?" "I think so." "All right." "You're tired, aren't you, Fleur?" "Yes." "Of me?" "I should never be tired of you," "Doesn't that mean you'd never have a feeling so definite, Fleur?" "No, it means..." "I know a good thing, and even a good person, when I've got one." "Oh, if only one weren't so complex." "You're lucky, you're single-hearted." "It's the greatest gift." "Well, don't ever become too serious, will you, Michael?" "Oh, no." "After all, comedy's the real thing." "Darling..." "I'm not happy." "Anne, why not?" "Because Fleur's in love with you." "I saw it at Ascot." "I guess I'm old-fashioned." "That's all right." "So am I." "You mustn't stop loving me." "Oh, my darling." "How could I?" "Because men do." "And it's not the fashion to be faithful." "Bosh, darling." "Fashion has nothing whatever to do with it." "And you did love her once." "I know you did." "I wish you'd told me." "Oh, Jon,I wish you'd told me." "Love me, Jon." "Love me." "She's still there, somewhere... wanting you."