To Let, John Galsworthy [good non fiction books to read txt] 📗
- Author: John Galsworthy
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Half-Past Two To-Morrow. I Shan't Be In, Myself."
She Sat Down At The Tiny Bureau Which Filled One Corner. When She
Looked Round With The Finished Note Fleur Was Still Touching The
Poppies With Her Gloved Finger.
June Licked A Stamp. "Well, Here It Is. If You're Not In Love, Of
Course, There's No More To Be Said. Jon's Lucky."
Fleur Took The Note. "Thanks Awfully!"
'Cold-Blooded Little Baggage!' Thought June. Jon, Son Of Her Father, To
Love, And Not To Be Loved By The Daughter Of--Soames! It Was
Humiliating!
"Is That All?"
Fleur Nodded; Her Frills Shook And Trembled As She Swayed Towards The
Door.
"Good-Bye!"
"Good-Bye! ... Little Piece Of Fashion!" Muttered June, Closing The
Door. "That Family!" And She Marched Back Towards Her Studio. Boris
Strumolowski Had Regained His Christlike Silence, And Jimmy Portugal
Was Damning Everybody, Except The Group In Whose Behalf He Ran The
Neo-Artist.
Part II VII (June Takes A Hand) Pg 7Among The Condemned Were Eric Cobbley, And Several Other
"Lame-Duck" Genii Who At One Time Or Another Had Held First Place In
The Repertoire Of June's Aid And Adoration. She Experienced A Sense Of
Futility And Disgust, And Went To The Window To Let The River-Wind Blow
Those Squeaky Words Away.
But When At Length Jimmy Portugal Had Finished, And Gone With Hannah
Hobdey, She Sat Down And Mothered Young Strumolowski For Half An Hour,
Promising Him A Month, At Least, Of The American Stream; So That He
Went Away With His Halo In Perfect Order. 'In Spite Of All,' June
Thought, 'Boris Is Wonderful.'
Part II VIII (The Bit Between The Teeth) Pg 8
To Know That Your Hand Is Against Every One's Is--For Some Natures--To
Experience A Sense Of Moral Release. Fleur Felt No Remorse When She
Left June's House. Reading Condemnatory Resentment In Her Little
Kinswoman's Blue Eyes--She Was Glad That She Had Fooled Her, Despising
June Because That Elderly Idealist Had Not Seen What She Was After.
End It, Forsooth! She Would Soon Show Them All That She Was Only Just
Beginning. And She Smiled To Herself On The Top Of The 'Bus Which
Carried Her Back To Mayfair. But The Smile Died, Squeezed Out By Spasms
Of Anticipation And Anxiety. Would She Be Able To Manage Jon? She Had
Taken The Bit Between Her Teeth, But Could She Make Him Take It Too?
She Knew The Truth And The Real Danger Of Delay--He Knew Neither;
Therein Lay All The Difference In The World.
Part II VIII (The Bit Between The Teeth) Pg 9'Suppose I Tell Him,' She Thought; 'Wouldn't It Really Be Safer?' This
Hideous Luck Had No Right To Spoil Their Love; He Must See That! They
Could Not Let It! People Always Accepted An Accomplished Fact, In Time!
From That Piece Of Philosophy--Profound Enough At Her Age--She Passed
To Another Consideration Less Philosophic. If She Persuaded Jon To A
Quick And Secret Marriage, And He Found Out Afterwards That She Had
Known The Truth! What Then? Jon Hated Subterfuge. Again, Then, Would It
Not Be Better To Tell Him? But The Memory Of His Mother's Face Kept
Intruding On That Impulse. Fleur Was Afraid. His Mother Had Power Over
Him; More Power Perhaps Than She Herself. Who Could Tell? It Was Too
Great A Risk. Deep-Sunk In These Instinctive Calculations She Was
Carried On Past Green Street As Far As The Ritz Hotel. She Got Down
There, And Walked Back On The Green Park Side. The Storm Had Washed
Every Tree; They Still Dripped. Heavy Drops Fell On To Her Frills, And
To Avoid Them She Crossed Over Under The Eyes Of The Iseeum Club.
Chancing To Look Up She Saw Monsieur Profond With A Tall Stout Man In
The Bay Window. Turning Into Green Street She Heard Her Name Called,
And Saw "That Prowler" Coming Up. He Took Off His Hat--A Glossy
"Bowler" Such As She Particularly Detested:
"Good-Evenin'! Miss Forsyde. Isn't There A Small Thing I Can Do For
You?"
"Yes, Pass By On The Other Side."
"I Say! Why Do You Dislike Me?"
"It Looks Like It."
"Well, Then, Because You Make Me Feel Life Isn't Worth Living."
Monsieur Profond Smiled.
"Look Here, Miss Forsyde, Don't Worry. It'll Be All Right. Nothing
Lasts."
"Things Do Last," Cried Fleur; "With Me Anyhow--Especially Likes And
Dislikes."
Part II VIII (The Bit Between The Teeth) Pg 10
"Well, That Makes Me A Bit Un'appy."
"I Should Have Thought Nothing Could Ever Make You Happy Or Unhappy."
"I Don't Like To Annoy Other People. I'm Goin' On My Yacht."
Fleur Looked At Him, Startled.
"Where?"
"Small Voyage To The South Seas Or Somewhere," Said Monsieur Profond.
Fleur Suffered Relief And A Sense Of Insult. Clearly He Meant To Convey
That He Was Breaking With Her Mother. How Dared He Have Anything To
Break, And Yet How Dared He Break It?
"Good-Night, Miss Forsyde! Remember Me To Mrs. Dartie. I'm Not So Bad,
Really. Good-Night!" Fleur Left Him Standing There With His Hat Raised.
Stealing A Look Round, She Saw Him Stroll--Immaculate And Heavy--Back
Towards His Club.
'He Can't Even Love With Conviction,' She Thought. 'What Will Mother
Do?'
Her Dreams That Night Were Endless And Uneasy; She Rose Heavy And
Unrested, And Went At Once To The Study Of Whitaker's Almanac. A
Forsyte Is Instinctively Aware That Facts Are The Real Crux Of Any
Situation. She Might Conquer Jon's Prejudice, But Without Exact
Machinery To Complete Their Desperate Resolve, Nothing Would Happen.
Part II VIII (The Bit Between The Teeth) Pg 11From The Invaluable Tome She Learned That They Must Each Be Twenty-One;
Or Some One's Consent Would Be Necessary, Which Of Course Was
Unobtainable; Then She Became Lost In Directions Concerning Licenses,
Certificates, Notices, Districts, Coming Finally To The Word "Perjury."
But That Was Nonsense! Who Would Really Mind Their Giving Wrong Ages In
Order To Be Married For Love! She Ate Hardly Any Breakfast, And Went
Back To Whitaker. The More She Studied The Less Sure She Became; Till,
Idly Turning The Pages, She Came To Scotland. People Could Be Married
There Without Any Of This Nonsense. She Had Only To Go And Stay There
Twenty-One Days, Then Jon Could Come, And In Front Of Two People They
Could Declare Themselves Married. And What Was More--They Would Be! It
Was Far The Best Way; And At Once She Ran Over Her School-Fellows.
There Was Mary Lambe Who Lived In Edinburgh And Was "Quite A Sport!"
She Had A Brother Too. She Could Stay With Mary Lambe, Who With Her
Brother Would Serve For Witnesses. She Well Knew That Some Girls Would
Think All This Unnecessary, And That All She And Jon Need Do Was To Go
Away Together For A Week-End And Then Say To Their People: "We Are
Married By Nature, We Must Now Be Married By Law." But Fleur Was
Forsyte Enough To Feel Such A Proceeding Dubious, And To Dread Her
Father's Face When He Heard Of It. Besides, She Did Not Believe That
Jon Would Do It; He Had An Opinion Of Her Such As She Could Not Bear To
Diminish. No! Mary Lambe Was Preferable, And It Was Just The Time Of
Year To Go To Scotland. More At Ease Now, She Packed, Avoided Her Aunt,
And Took A 'Bus To Chiswick. She Was Too Early And Went On To Kew
Gardens. She Found No Peace Among Its Flower-Beds, Labelled Trees, And
Broad Green Spaces, And Having Lunched Off Anchovy-Paste Sandwiches And
Coffee, Returned To Chiswick And Rang June's Bell. The Austrian
Admitted Her To The "Little Meal-Room." Now That She Knew What She And
Jon Were Up Against, Her Longing For Him Had Increased Tenfold, As If
He Were A Toy With Sharp Edges Or Dangerous Paint Such As They Had
Tried To Take From Her As A Child. If She Could Not Have Her Way, And
Get Jon For Good And All, She Felt Like Dying Of Privation. By Hook Or
Crook She Must And Would Get Him! A Round Dim Mirror Of Very Old Glass
Hung Over The Pink Brick Hearth. She Stood Looking At Herself Reflected
In It, Pale, And Rather Dark Under The Eyes; Little Shudders Kept
Passing Through Her Nerves. Then She Heard The Bell Ring, And, Stealing
To The Window, Saw Him Standing On, The Doorstep Smoothing His Hair And
Lips, As If He Too Were Trying To Subdue The Fluttering Of His Nerves.
Part
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