The Forsyte Saga Volume 2(231)
‘Well, I’ll go up directly. How does England feel, Jon?’
‘Topping. Can’t leave it again. Anne says she doesn’t mind.’
‘Where are you going to settle?’
‘Somewhere near Val and Holly, if we can get a place to grow things.’
‘Still keen on growing things?’
‘More than ever.’
‘How’s the poetry?’
‘Pretty dud.’
Fleur quoted:
‘“Voice in the night crying, down in the old sleeping Spanish city darkened under her white stars.”’
‘Good Lord! Do you remember that?’
‘Yes.’
His eyes were as straight, his lashes as dark as ever.
‘Would you like to meet Michael, Jon, and see my infant?’
‘Rather!’
‘When do you go down to Wansdon?’
‘To-morrow or the day after.’
‘Then, won’t you both come and lunch to-morrow?’
‘We’d love to.’
‘Half-past one. Holly and Aunt Winifred, too. Is your mother still in Paris?’
‘Yes. She thinks of settling there.’
‘Well, Jon – things fall on their feet, don’t they?’
‘They do.’
‘Shall I give you some more coffee? Aunt Winifred prides herself on her coffee.’
‘Fleur, you do look splendid.’
‘Thank you! Have you been down to see Robin Hill?’
‘Not yet. Some potentate’s got it now.’
‘Does your – does Anne find things amusing here?’
‘She’s terribly impressed – says we’re a nation of gentlemen. Did you ever think that?’
‘Positively – no; comparatively – perhaps.’
‘It all smells so good here.’
‘The poet’s nose. D’you remember our walk at Wansdon?’
‘I remember everything, Fleur.’
‘That’s honest. So do I. It took me some time to remember that I’d forgotten. How long did it take you?’
‘Still longer, I expect.’
‘Well, Michael’s the best male I know.’
‘Anne’s the best female.’
‘How fortunate – isn’t it? How old is she?’
‘Twenty-one.’
‘Just right for you. Even if we hadn’t been star-crossed, I was always too old for you. God I Weren’t we young fools?’
‘I don’t see that. It was natural – it was beautiful.’
‘Still got ideals? Marmalade? It’s Oxford.’
‘Yes. They can’t make marmalade out of Oxford.’
‘Jon, your hair grows exactly as it used to. Have you noticed mine?’
‘I’ve been trying to.’
‘Don’t you like it?’
‘Not so much, quite; and yet –’
‘You mean I shouldn’t look well out of the fashion. Very acute! You don’t mind her being shingled, apparently.’
‘It suits Anne.’
‘Did her brother tell you much about me?’
‘He said you had a lovely house; and nursed him like an angel.’
‘Not like an angel; like a young woman of fashion. There’s still a difference.’
‘Anne was awfully grateful for that. She’s told you?’
‘Yes. But I’m afraid, between us, we sent Francis home rather cynical. Cynicism grows here; d’you notice it in me?’
‘I think you put it on.’
‘My dear! I take it off when I talk to you. You were always an innocent. Don’t smile – you were I That’s why you were well rid of me. Well, I never thought I should see you again.’
‘Nor I. I’m sorry Anne’s not down.’
‘You’ve never told her about me.’
‘How did you know that?’
‘By the way she looks at me.’
‘Why should I tell her?’
‘No reason in the world. Let the dead past – It’s fun to see you again, though. Shake hands. I’m going up to Holly now.’
Their hands joined over the marmalade on his plate.
‘We’re not children now, Jon. Till to-morrow, then! You’ll like my house.A rivederci!’
Going up the stairs she thought with resolution about nothing.
‘Can I come in, Holly?’
‘Fleur! My dear!’
That thin, rather sallow face, so charmingly intelligent, was propped against a pillow. Fleur had the feeling that, of all people, it was most difficult to keep one’s thoughts from Holly.
‘These accounts,’ she said. ‘I’m to see that official ass at ten. Did you order all these sides of bacon?’
The thin sallow hand took the accounts, and between the large grey eyes came a furrow.
‘Nine? No – yes; that’s right. Have you seen Jon?’