"Here is a Forsyte." "Jon Forsyte, the young man whom Fleur once loved." "June Forsyte called him "her little brother", and talked of a family feud." "Thank the lord for the feud, say I, and for South carolina." "Three thousand miles from London, as the crow can't fly." "This is a good piano." "Does Anne play?" "Yes she does, but not as well as you, mrs." "Forsyte, ma'am." "Were you ever a professional?" "Nearly." "A long time ago." "How do you keep it tuned?" "There's a little old man, a german, who travels all over this section in an ancient flivver." "He tunes all the pianos between Charleston and Augusta, Georgia." "Are there many?" "They're pretty scattered about, I guess." "Anyway, he stays over a couple of nights and we have some fine music." "He plays well?" "Pretty good." "Schubert." "Brahms." "Mendelssohn." "German stuff mostly." "We like it." "So do I." "Sherry, ma'am?" "Thank you." "We feed him up, give him his $10.00, and send him on his way." "Southern hospitality." "I've noticed." "Well, ma'am, when you're as isolated as we are, in a big country, why, it's only natural to welcome strangers." "As you welcomed me." "You and your sister have been so kind." "It's been a pleasure to have you here, ma'am." "Mr. Wilmot..." "Francis." "I did ask you." "Yes." "Yes,so you did." "Francis... when Jon came back three months ago and told me how he'd met you two in Camden and that you'd asked him to stay here, I won't deny that I was curious about you." "Curious?" "A young man and his even younger sister living alone in a romantic southern mansion." "A decaying southern mansion." "Picturesque was Jon's word for it." "It would be." "Can you wonder that I was curious?" "Because you're a mother, ma'am?" "With an only son?" "You're rather shrewd, aren't you?" "I don't think so." "But ever since our parents died..." "When was that?" "Nine years ago." "They were drowned." "What?" "In "The Lusitania"." "Coming home from Europe." "Remember "The Lusitania"?" "Who could forget?" "So you were left alone with a sister and a mansion and a cotton plantation." "No other relations?" "None nearer than California, and that's a long ways away." "How old were you?" "Seventeen." "Anne was eleven." "And you looked after her." "At first." "And now she looks after me." "And forgive mrs." "Forsyte, ma'am," "I don't want to see her hurt." "Hurt?" "Is there any danger of that?" "It's possible." "You see, I think she's in love with Jon." "Really in love?" "I guess so." "Has she said that she is?" "Well, no." "Anne doesn't say much." "I've noticed that." "It's very refreshing." "But it shows." "At least it does to me." "Now, I've nothing against Jon." "I like him." "I'm glad to hear it." "But you can't make a man love a girl unless he's so inclined." "Or vice versa." "What?" "Or vice versa." "Oh, sure." "But Jon... there's a doubt in my mind." "A doubt about Jon?" "Don't get me wrong." "He's straight." "I'm convinced of that." "But if he loves her, and I think he does, why doesn't he say something?" "I get the feeling... and I may be way off, that there's something holding him back." "Something?" "Or someone, perhaps?" "Well, ma'am?" "It's not me." "I promise you that." "But if you thought it might be, I shouldn't find the suggestion impertinent." "The world's full of possessive mothers." "I'm not one of them." "Forgive me, but does Jon understand that?" "Yes, he does." "Well, then." "I see that I must tell you something." "You see, three years ago," "Jon, in England, had a bitter experience." "I'd like to hear..." "I won't give you the details." "It's all in the past now." "But he was badly hurt at the time." "And when you are really hurt, Francis, you're seldom in a hurry to repeat the experience." "I see that, but if Jon and Anne love... may I suggest that we just give them time?" "By the way, shouldn't they be back from their ride?" "It's getting late." "You're right." "It's a quarter to 6:00." "Now that's not good." "If they lose the trail." "Surely, horses always know their way home." "Not these two, they came in from Camden yesterday." "I gave them to Jon and Anne to try out." "Francis... you're not..." "you're not really worried?" "No." "They'll be all right." "I'm pretty sure we're on the wrong trail." "Yes, I've thought so for some time." "We're too far to the west, I think." "You sure of that, Jon?" "Not in the least." "We're lost." "What fun." "Well, it's no joke in these woods." "Don't they ever end?" "I guess not." "Your brother's going to be pretty sick with me." "I promised him I'd take care of you." "Well, you are taking care of me." "Don't be upset." "This is an adventure." "Look, the moon comes up in about two hours." "There's no sense in riding on until we can see." "Over there, Jon, in that clearing, isn't that the indian mound we passed coming out?" "Either that one or another." "We'll get some shelter there until moonrise right." "Well, I'll tether the horses." "It's going to be cold." "Jon, here." "Where are you?" "Down here." "Ah." "Dry as a bone." "Good." "Yes, it is." "Here." "Oh, thanks." "Let's see if we can get them alight." "All right." "There." "Splendid." "You must be cold." "Look here, have my coat." "You do that, and I'll run out into those woods and get really lost." "You know, I'd be scared on my own." "Seems kind of spooky here." "Spirits of the old indians." "What tribes hereabouts?" "Oh, seminoles,mostly." "But these mounds were built by much older people." "Nobody knows who they were." "All dead and gone." "Well I don't believe in spooks." "You would if you'd had a colored nanny." "Did you have one?" "Surely." "Her voice was as soft as soft as mush melon." "She used to tell me stories that made my hair stand on end." ""Like quills upon the fretful porpentine."" "Exactly." "Do you mind?" "I've got the creeps down the back." "Of course not." "It's only the wind getting up." "No... it's the spooks." "Am I too heavy?" "Not at all." ""Not at all."" "English." "Do you know?" "You're the first english person I've ever met." "You disappointed?" "Not at all." "I'd love to see England." "Our folks came over from there, 1700." "Worcestershire." "Where's that?" "It's pronounced Worcestershire." "Worcestershire?" "Worcestershire." "Worcest... it's our... well, it's our "middle west," really." "But as unlike yours as you could ever imagine." "No, it's... it's fruit-growing country, mostly." "Very pretty." "White houses, black-timbered." "Pastures." "Orchards." "Green hills." "With the light changing on them as the high clouds go by." "Sounds wonderful." "How could you ever leave?" "What made you come to America?" "I went to British columbia first, but I didn't get on too well." "Then I heard of peaches in North carolina." "And how are the peaches in North carolina?" "Oh, they're fine." "That's more than I can say for cotton in South carolina." "But you haven't told me." "Why did you leave England?" "Partly because I wanted to see the world." "And partly for... well... for family reasons." "They were important at the time... but not anymore." "Anne?" "Are you awake?" "Mm-hm." "Hey." "The moon." "I know." "Look, I'm in charge of you." "Come on." "Anne, look over there." "That funny old tree, like a witch." "Remember passing it on the way out?" "We are on the right trail." "Yes, Jon." "General election!" "Parliament dissolved!" "General election!" "Parliament dissolved!" "General election!" "Parliament dissolved!" "General election!" "This is London calling," "Here is the first general news bulletin copyright by Reuter press association, exchange telegraph and central news." "The government were defeated in the House of commons last night." "This morning, the prime minister, mr." "Ramsay macdonald, had an audience of the king and asked his majesty to dissolve parliament." "It was a pretty dramatic moment..." "The size of the final majority against the government came as a surprise to all parties." "Well Blythe, that's that." "Baldwin's in, and this time he'll get a thumping majority." "One expects so." "But what he'll do with it is..." "You'll be standing again, Michael, of course." "Oh, I'm not so sure, Bart..." "I've been eating the country's bread for six months now, and I haven't opened my mouth except to chew." "On my advice, sir Lawrence." "If one is going to put foggartism over in parliament..." "Put what over?" "Foggartism, Bart. Foggartism?" "Yes." "Sir James Foggart, you know." "I'm sorry, I don'T." "He wrote a book, "The powerless state of England"." "Danby and winter, 25 shillings." "Nobody's ever read it." "Except Blythe and me." "Danby only published because old Foggart stumped up for it himself." "It came out four months after I left the firm and abandoned publishing forever." "What is the thesis?" "Well, his eyes are fixed on 1944 and his policies according." "Disarmament if possible, but he doesn't believe it'll work." "Well, and who does?" "Right." "So we must keep a strong air force." "He says we're going to need it." "And a good deal before 1944, if one is any judge." "Then the land." "We must subsidize agriculture." "Heresy!" "Yes, but common sense too, Bart." "Look, we're an island, growing 1/5 of our food." "We could grow 3/4." "In another war, what with submarines, we may have to." "By then it'll be too late." "Fascinating." "Continue." "Child emigration." "I beg your pardon?" "Take the kids out of the gutters and slums and send them abroad to populate the dominions:" "Australia." "Canada." "New zealand." "South africa." "Build a healthy population hungry for our goods all over the empire, and in 20 years... in short, suffer a worse present, for the sake of a better future." "Exactly." "Now do you really think that the electors give a tinker's curse about the future?" "Look, Bart, they care about this ghastly unemployment, as we all do." "Foggartism can cure it." "You'd have to prove it, and they won't let you." "No political party would face an increase in taxation." "Too unpopular." "One can only try, sir Lawrence." "No." "Eat your cake and have it." "That's the slogan that wins elections." "Oh, by the way, Michael, you stood as a tory last time, what do they think of this, uh, remarkable policy?" "And what about your constituents?" "Will they fall for it?" "Mid-bucks, sir Lawrence." "Agricultural district." "You see, bart, I thought if I stood as an independent, I could... you'd lose your deposit." "What does Fleur think?" "She likes you being an M.P." "And she keeps her ear to the ground." "Ah, our charming lady." "Well, she says go in as a tory." "And then disagree with everybody." "Bring up foggartism if I want to in my maiden speech, set them all by the ears." "Hm, shrewd." "One endorses that." "By the way, Blythe, you coming to her evening on wednesday?" "Certainly." "Good." "I'm sorry you can't come, Bart." "Oh, lord, I better go." "By the way, Fleur also suggested I should take up some eccentricity." "Like wearing a monocle." "Indeed?" "Yes." ""No go" I said." "After all, it never did you any good, did it?" "No, because I am not a politician." "But what sir Austen Chamberlain would have done without his" "I shudder to think, eh, Blythe?" "Hm." "It's the prettiest room i ever was in." "What a perfectly charming thing to overhear." "Mrs. Mont?" "It used to be chinese, but I like this better." "So Jon married your sister." "Is she pretty?" "Yes, she is." "Very?" "Yes indeed, ma'am." "And do you approve?" "oh, I sure do." "Young Jon's a pretty fine fella." "And Anne..." "I'm glad." "Do come and sit down." "Holly tells me you've been staying in Sussex with them." "Oh, I was." "I aim to go back, but I had to see London" "Of course." "And you must come and stay here." "Why, no.That'd be..." "nonsense." "Be as free as you like." "Consider us a hotel." "That's real good of you." "I've never been on this side before." "They got through the war too soon." "Lucky for you." "You must meet our son, christopher." "Kit for short." "How old is he?" "Just over a year." "Michael will be in directly." "He's in parliament, you know." "You might even like to hear a debate." "Oh, I should admire to." "I don't know, the decor's amusing, but it's usually a bore." "No worse than congress, I reckon." "No." "Tell me, what's Jon like now, still english?" "Well, he sounds like it to me." "And his mother?" "She used to be beautiful." "And is so to this day." "She would be." "You don't like her?" "I only hope she isn't jealous of your sister." "Isn't that, perhaps, just a little bit unjust?" "Yes, I think perhaps it is." "If you really mean to have me here..." "of course." "I better go collect my baggage." "Do that." "Dinner's at 8:00, and your room will be ready." "Wonderful." "I was getting kind of homesick." "I'm not accustomed to big cities." "See you later, ma'am." "Oh, there you are, Soames." "We don't want to be late." "There's plenty of time." "Yes, I've ordered a taxi." "Good." "Have you seen this?" "What is it?" "It's the "chiff-chaff"column." "It's gossip, you know?" "Yes, rubbish." "Written by housemaids for housemaids." "Oh, no, dear." "It's malicious sometimes, yes." "But it's quite well-informed." "Oh, no." "For instance: "A surprise for the next parliament" ""is being confected at the wednesday gatherings" ""of a young hostess not a hundred miles from westminster." ""Her husband, a prospective baronet lately connected with literature..."" "What's that?" "They mean michael, of course." "And Fleur." ""..." "Is to be entrusted with the launching of a policy" ""which enjoys the peculiar label of foggartism." ""Well, we shall see." ""But in the meantime, the enterprising little lady in question "" "is losing no chance of building up her salon on the curiosity which ever surrounds any buccaneering in politics."" "Give me that." "There you are." "Who writes this stuff?" "Well, it's anonymous, of course." ""Enterprising little lady."" "You know, I wouldn't be at all surprised if this isn't actionable." "Oh, rubbish, Soames." "It's silly gossip, that's all." "We shall see." "Yes." "Well, there's one thing clear anyway." "They got a traitor in their camp." "Hm. "Buccaneering"?" "Whoever wrote that comes to your house as a guest." "Who is he?" "Well, it's most likely a she." "You mean to say women write such stuff?" "And they print it?" "You're behind the times, sir." "And a very good thing too." "Will they tell me who it is, if I go down and ask them?" "No!" "But..." "fortunately." "How do you mean "fortunately"?" "Well look, sir, the press is a sensitive plant." "You might make it curl up." "Besides, they're always saying nice things that aren't deserved." "You mean we have to sit down under this?" "To lie down, I'm afraid, sir." "Oh, yes, I'm sure that's wise." "It's so much better to take no notice." "Oh, Fleur has a party this evening?" "Yes." "They start coming about 10:00." "I shall stay." "If I may." "Keep my eyes open." "May I stay too?" "Hello, everybody." "Sorry I'm late." "Michael, I didn't know you were in." "Hello, darling." "Shouldn't you go and change?" "Dinner's in 20 minutes." "Oh, we have another guest." "Oh, who?" "A young american called Francis Wilmot." "He arrived on the Mauretania last week." "I've asked him to stay." "Wilmot?" "Jon Forsyte married his sister." "I told you, darling." "Well, that's delightful." "Well, where is the... good evening." "Come and be introduced." "This is my aunt, mrs." "Dartie." "Val's mother." "Francis Wilmot." "How do you do?" "Mrs. Dartie." "Holly wrote me about you." "And my father, mr." "Forsyte." "How are you, sir?" "And this is my husband, Michael." "Francis Wilmot." "Very kind of you and mrs." "Mont to invite me." "Not at all." "Well, I must go and change." "Ring for sherry, would you, Fleur?" "Now, mr." "Wilmot, you must tell me what you think of Wansdon." "Do you care for horses?" "Yes, well, of course you do, coming from the deep south." "Or am I thinking of the wild west?" "Evening, Coaker.Evening, madam." "How now, Coaker?" "Are you well?" "Thank you, sir." "Just full enough, I should say, and not too full." "Shall we go well, Aubrey, dear, now we're here." "Well, come along then." "Oh, what a place to hang a picture." "You can't get back far enough to see it!" "Don't you agree, Coaker?" "It's not my place to say, mr." "Greene." "Because I painted the damn thing." "Bad luck." "Aubrey, dear, do stop admiring yourself." "I want , well, to think that wonderful body is somewhere in Australia." "It's a crime." "A shame." "Shall I announce you, sir?" "No, don't bother." "We'll just float in like the wild, wandering spirit that we are." "Come, Marjorie." "Michael!" "Fleur!" "Splendid." "Aubrey!" "Marjorie!" "Hello." "How are you?" "He's gorgeously brown, isn't he, Michael?" "Yes, he is." "And Marjorie just looks gorgeous, as usual." "Thank you, Michael." "Miss ferrar!" "Well, how was Italy?" "A revelation." "My spirits sank, getting back here." "But this cheers me up no end." "How sweet of you to ask me, Fleur." "We've missed you terribly." "He's been away ages." "Two months." "I missed all the drama." "You'll have to tell me about Ramsay mac and the liberal scuttle." "Of course." "But first, you must have a drink." "Thank you." "Ah, there we are." "There." "Michael." "Keep an eye on Francis." "He's looking left-out." "Very well." "Aubrey, come and meet an american friend of ours, mr." "Francis Wilmot." "Francis, this is Aubrey Greene, who painted that delicious naked girl in the hall." "I must congratulate you, sir." "It's a beautiful painting." "Thank you for calling it a painting." "You don't mean to tell me it's a reproduction." "No, indeed, I was slightly pleased with it when I did it." "Good lord, Audrey.Aren't you now?" "I'm less sure." "Wilmot's the first to call it a painting for a long time." "What on earth are you talking about?" "I'll tell you, dear boy." "To most people it's just a "delicious naked girl."" "But Victorine was much more." "If I only went skin-deep, then I failed." "I should have painted her 20 times, but the stupid little one went off to australia with her husband." "Aubrey?" "I ask you." "Excuse me." "You certainly know some interesting people." "Yes." "And some damned dull ones too." "I haven't got a drink yet." "Let's see if we can find a way to get some champagne." "Ah, thank you." "Isn't the little Mont amusing?" "Just look at her now!" "Oh, who's that with her?" "Don Fernando, darling." "You'd think he was her only joy." "Ah, there's young bashly." "Off she goes." "Oh, she does it pretty well." "Rubbish, Aubrey." "It's a rotten performance by any standards." "Oh?" "I thought you were impressed." "She's a born little snob." "She really thinks she's making a "salon."" "And isn't she?" "Oh, lord, no." "To form a "salon" you need personality, wit and the don't-give-a-damn spirit." "But Fleur, she hasn't got a scrap." "Besides, who is she?" "Money." "Not so very much." "Michael's such dead nuts on her he's getting dull." "Oh, so that's it?" "I imagined it was parliament." "Have you heard this foggartism stuff they're talking?" "Yes, all food, children and the future." "The very dregs of dullness." "Ah, it's the vice of our life." "One does resent a nobody like her climbing in on this sort of piffle." "But she's using it." "Anything to get a leg up the social ladder." "Poor Michael." "She's exploiting him quite ruthlessly." "Who's that old buffer?" "Oh, good god, I didn't know he was there." "That's Fleur's father." "Michael." "Who's the young woman with the red hair?" "Who, Marjorie Ferrar?" "She's the traitoress." "Turn her out !" "But she's the daughter of lord charles..." "Turn her out!" "We know her quite well." "How do you know she's the traitoress?" "I've just heard her us the very words of the paragraph, and worse." "But she's our guest." "Hm." "Pretty guest." "No, sir!" "You can't turn out a guest!" "Besides, she's the granddaughter of a marquis." "Cause a devil of a scandal, sir." "Then cause it." "Look, sir." "We won't ask her again." "But I'm afraid that's all we can do." "Is it?" "Soames!" "It's really true." "Madam." "Madam!" "You were good enough to call my daughter a snob in her own house." "You are a traitoress." "Be so good as to withdraw." "That'll do, sir." "This isn't a peace conference." "I don't know this person, but he's a liar." "No, ma'am." "That he is not." "Sorry, Michael." "Michael, my dear..." "It's best." "Dear, boy... oh, no." "The old boy's gone too far this time." "Madame Carelli is going to play!" "Well, that is delightful." "Scarlatti, I hope." "Now don't you simply adore Scarlatti?" "Yes, ma'am." "Yes, I knew you would." "This is going to be a feast." "Tibby, sit yourself down." "All right, Coaker." "Granddaughter of a marquis, is she?" "Who's she, I'd like to know, to give herself airs?" "Aristocrats." "I wouldn't cross the road to talk to the duke of Bermondsey." "If Fleur wants..." "yes, sir." "Fleur." "Well, if Fleur wants to have people along in the evening to amuse herself, why shouldn't she?" "Don't you realize what you've done, sir?" "A snob and a nobody, is she?" "We'll see about that." "Yes, sir." "I'm afraid we shall." "What's that?" "Well, I got rid of that red-haired cat for you anyway." "Good riddance." "Now you know where you stand." "Storm in a tea cup." "Buck up, darling." "If you aren't one, what does it matter?" "Who cares what one is?" "It's what one's labeled." "Well, we've labeled her a "traitoress."" "As if that makes it any better." "We all talk behind each other's backs." "Who minds well, how can I go on when everybody is snickering:" ""Fleur Mont, the little lion-hunting snob."" "She'll cry it out all over London, just out of revenge." "Oh, how can I have any more evenings?" "Never mind what people say, fleur." "Sooner or later, one's got to face that anyway." "It's you who aren't facing it." "If one isn't thought nice, one can't be nice." "Look, only the people who really know one matter, you know." "Nobody knows one." "The fonder they the less it matters what they think." "God, I hate her!" "And if I can hurt her, I will." "Yes." "Well, shall we sleep on it, hm?" "I said I shan't have any more evenings, but I shall." "Good." "That's the spirit." "No." "Oh, thank you." "Ah, mr." "Wilmot." "The last survivors of a stricken field." "That was... oh, well, ma'am." "Don't distress yourself, young man." "This was a particularly dramatic evening." "But society isn't like that every night." "Worse luck." "That girl... who, Marjorie Ferrar?" "They tell me she's as fast as they're made." "Sit yourself down." "Her father, you know, owned the horse that didn't beat the french horse in the something or other stakes at... where was it now?" "Let me see, uh..." "Newmarket." "I thought she was the most wonderful girl i've ever seen." "Excuse me, ma'am." "Your taxi's here, madam." "Hm?" "Oh, thank you, Coaker." "Most wonderful." "Well, good gracious me." "Mr. Forsyte, I presume?" "You made use of an insulting word to my daughter last night in the presence of several people." "Yes." "It was richly deserved." "You were not drunk then?" "Not at all." "I have the names of those who overheard it." "You will be good enough to write to each of them separately, and withdraw your expression unreservedly." "I'll do nothing of the sort." "You're an attorney, I believe?" "A solicitor." "Then you know the consequences of refusal." "If your daughter wishes to go into court, I shall meet her there." "You refuse to withdraw?" "Absolutely." "Good day, then." "Good day." "Ah." "Quick action, I see." "Charlie Ferrar was always a thruster." "Tell me about him." "What's his standing?" "He owes money everywhere, has some useful horses, and is a very good shot." "Well, he didn't strike me as a gentleman." "And his daughter is no lady." "Single-minded, Forsyte." "Single-minded." "But you're right." "There's a queer streak in that blood." "His father, the old marquis of Shropshire's a dear old man, skipped his generation." "But it's there." "It's there." "He called me an attorney." "His daughter called me a liar." "which is worse." "She may, uh... she may bring an action, Forsyte." "It was very public." "What evidence have you?" "My own ears." "Oh." "Anything else?" "That paragraph in the papers." "She may get at the paper, and they'll cover up for her." "Anything more?" "Well, that chap she was talking to." "It was Aubrey Greene, Bart. The painter." "Oh, that man." "He's a nice chap." "In fact, I like him, but... well, he's an old chum of Marjorie'S." "That american heard something." "He must have done." "Wilmot?" "Yes." "He intervened when she called me a liar." "Better take care she doesn't get at him, Michael." "You say she called you a liar." "Why not take the offensive?" "What's her reputation?" "She's in a set, I suppose?" "Yes. "The panjoys"." "All right, they don't really count." "Yes." "Thank you." "Bring an action against a woman?" "No, it wouldn't do." "Quite right, Forsyte." "They have their privileges still." "There's nothing for it but to wait and see how the cat jumps." "Oh, so..." ""Traitoress."" "I suppose you know how much the word costs?" "It's not the cost." "It's the publicity." "I think I'll go and see old shropshire." "My father and his used to shoot woodcock together." "Will that help?" "Well, I don't know." "He's 80, has gout in the stomach, but he's as brisk as a bee." "Oh, well... it's worth trying." "I'll go now." "I don't want you to." "No, no, no." "The grass shall not grow, Forsyte." "Thank you, Bart." "What does fleur say?" "War." "What?" "To the knife." "Women." "No imagination." "Hello?" "Oh, it's you again." "No, there's no need." "I'll put it all in writing." "In fact, I have already done so." "Sorry to keep you waiting, young mont." "Do sit down." "Yes, if you adopt my scheme for electrification i guarantee a saving to your ratepayers of at least 3000 a year." "And what's you'll confer a benefit on the countryside by abolishing the smoke of four filthy chimneys." "What's that?" "He's obliged." "Yes, I should hope you would be obliged." "You'll have the whole scheme by tomorrow's post." "Goodbye." "Goodbye." "Now, my dear young Mont." "What can I do for you?" "I've come for your advice." "How can I advise you?" "Your granddaughter, sir, and my daughter-in-law want to fight like Billy-O." "Marjorie?" "Ho-ho-ho..." "I draw the line." "A charming young woman to look at, but I draw the line." "What's she done now?" "She's called my daughter-in-law a snob and a lion-hunter." "And my daughter-in-law's father has called your granddaughter a traitoress to her face." "Oh, bold man." "Who is he?" "His name is Forsyte." "Forsyte?" "Name's familiar." "Now where would that be, I wonder?" "Forsyte... ah." "Forsyte and Treffry, the big tea people." "My father had his tea from them direct." "Real caravan." "No such tea now." "Same family?" "Some relation, perhaps." "This man is a solicitor.Retired. Chiefly renowned for his pictures." "A man of some substance and probity." "And is his daughter a snob and a.." "what did you say?" "Lion-hunter." "Is she?" "She's a charmer." "Likes to have people about her." "Excellent little mother." "Some french blood." "Ah, the french." "Better built round the middle than our people." "Well, what do you want me to do?" "Speak to your son, Charles." "Can't." "I'm sorry, Mont." "I never speak to Charlie." "We haven't spoken for six years." "I'm sorry, sir." "I didn't know." "Sorry to have bothered you." "Oh, it's no bother." "It's a pleasure to see you." "What shall we do with these young women, Mont?" "No sense of service." "No continuity." "No figures." "No hair." "It's a problem, I agree, sir." "Goodbye, Marquis." "Goodbye, my dear young Mont." "Delighted to see you looking so well." "Command me at any time." "Oh, it occurs to me, if I should have occasion, if I should run across Marjorie, I'll see." "So you've found London disappointing?" "Why, no, ma'am." "On the contrary." "But you think Paris will be more fun." "Well, you know what they say about americans and Paris." "I thought that was only the yankees." "However, I'm sure you'll enjoy it." "Be sure to come and see us on your way home." "I sure will." "Mr. Wilmot is leaving us, father." "He's going to Paris." "You're just in time to say goodbye." "Ah, yes." "Well, uh..." "goodbye." "Oh, if you're interested in pictures, mr." "Wilmot, you should look in at the louvre." "I will." "It's been a privilege to know you, sir." "Oh?" "I'll be writing to jon from Paris." "I will surely send your love." "Thank you." "I'll be glad to have you and Michael come stay with me any time you come over." "It would be a treat to have you." "That would be very kind of you." "Thank you very much." "That was all very sudden." "He upset about something?" "Why did you make that fuss last night, hm?" "What good do you think you've done?" "I feel as though I can't look anyone in the face again." "But I'm going to, all the same." "If I'm a lion-hunter and a snob, I'll do it thoroughly." "But I only wish you wouldn't go on thinking I'm still a child and can't defend myself." "I'm sorry, I can't help it." "Everything's ruined." "There you are, sir." "Thank you very much." "Thanks." "Hello, mr." "Wilmot." "Oh, hello." "You know my name." "I asked that parlormaid." "She said you were staying with the Monts." "Oh, I was." "But I'm staying here for tonight." "I'm catching the boat train tomorrow morning." "for New york?" "Paris." "Then Florence and on to Rome." "Globetrotting." "Have you got room for me in your... what do you call it?" "Your "grip"?" "Joke, mr." "Wilmot." "Though now I come to think of it... ah, well." "You disapprove of me?" "Last night I did." "I know." "Why?" "You called your hostess a snob." "My dear if one never call one's friends anything worse than that..." "I didn't mean you to hear... or that pompous old person with the chin." "He's Fleur's father, and he was hurt." "Well, I'm sorry." "Anyway, I admire you for sticking up for him." "Thank you, ma'am." "But what else could a man do?" "I know dozens who wouldn't." "Don't you know my name?" "Or do you always call women "ma'am"?" "Certainly I know your name and where you live." "I was around there this morning." "Were you?" "What time?" "I was in." "About 5:30." "What?" "I couldn't sleep." "Kept thinking about you." "Well, I just wanted to be near you." "That's a pretty speech." "Come and have tea with me there tomorrow." "I got to be in Paris." "I shall expect you." "Now I must fly." "My hairdresser won't forgive me." "Tomorrow?" "Can you help me, please?" "I'd like to cancel some reservations." "I don't know how many more she wrote, of course, but I should have thought these two were enough." "May I see them please, miss ferrar?" "Thank you." "Now are these, uh... these two ladies, Sally, uh..." "Penrryn and Audrey Maltese." "Friends of yours?" "Yes." "And of mrs." "Mont?" "I don't know about "friends."" "Quite." ""Snake of the first water..." ""sneaks into one's house..." ""she hasn't a moral about her nor a decent impulse."" "Now, miss ferrar, when your fiancé asked me to come here... sir Alexander Macgown isn't my fiancé." "Oh?" "He lead me to believe..." "At the moment, it's completely unofficial." "I haven't made up my mind." "I understand." "Let us proceed then." "When sir Alexander asked me, as his solicitor, to look into this," "I understood it to be on the basis only of a spoken slander by a mr." "Forsyte." "But since then, these letters have been written by mrs." "Mont, and have come into your possession." "How did that happen, miss Ferrar?" "Mrs. Penrryn and mrs." "Maltese gave them to me." "Quite voluntary, of course." "Of course." "They thought I should know what was being written about me." "Quite so." "And now your intention, I take it, is to drop the slander action against Forsyte and to sue mrs." "Mont for libel?" "Yes, my father suggested that, and so did sir Alexander." "Then may I ask you some questions?" "What would you like me to tell you?" "The truth." "But naturally." "Tell me now, what actually occurred at mrs." "Mont's party?" "Well, I was just saying to mr." "Greene that mrs." "Mont was very eager to form a salon, and didn't have the right qualities." "Mr. Forsyte overheard and thought I was insulting her." "Is that all?" "I may have said she was fond of lions, and so she is." "Yes, but, uh... why did he call you a traitoress?" "Because she was my hostess, I suppose." "Mr. Greene confirm you in this?" "Aubrey?" "Lord, yes." "He's in my pocket." "Did anybody else overhear?" "No." "What about an american?" "He won't say so anyway." "An admirer?" "No." "He's going away." "Now then you want a written apology from mrs." "Mont and whatever you can get, I suppose." "Yes." "The more the better." "You're hard up?" "Couldn't well be harder." "I see." "But you don't want to bring it into court, I take it?" "No, not really." "And sir Alexander feels... as a member of parliament, he would find it... but he'd back me up if it does." "I'm fully aware of that." "Personally, I think it might be rather fun." "That depends on the number of skeletons you have in your cupboard." "I shall put everything into your hands." "Oh, the letters should be sufficient, miss ferrar." "And she is a little snob, you know." "Did you happen to use that word?" "No, I'm pretty sure i didn't." "It does make a difference." "Are you quite sure?" "Not quite." "Forsyte says you did." "Well, I told him he was a liar." "Did you indeed?" "And they heard you?" "Rather." "That could be important." "I don't think he'll go into court and say I called her a snob." "That's very shrewd, miss Ferrar." "Thank you." "Yes, I think we shall do..." "I think we shall do very well." "We'll serve a writ for libel and see what happens." "Goodbye." "Goodbye, mr." "Settlewhite."