man of property-第44部分

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He　looked　kindly　at　Bosinney。

〃Yes；〃　said　the　latter　more　cordially；　〃it　goes　out　from　you　and　there's　an　end　of　it。　　I　didn't　know　you　painted。〃

〃Only　water…colours；　I　can't　say　I　believe　in　my　work。〃

〃Don't　believe　in　it？　　Therehow　can　you　do　it？　　Work's　no　use　unless　you　believe　in　it！〃

〃Good；〃　said　young　Jolyon；　〃it's　exactly　what　I've　always　said。　By…the…bye；　have　you　noticed　that　whenever　one　says　'Good；'　one　always　adds　'it's　exactly　what　I've　always　said'！　　But　if　you　ask　me　how　I　do　it；　I　answer；　because　I'm　a　Forsyte。〃

〃A　Forsyte！　　I　never　thought　of　you　as　one！〃

〃A　Forsyte；〃　replied　young　Jolyon；　〃is　not　an　uncommon　animal。　There　are　hundreds　among　the　members　of　this　Club。　　Hundreds　out　there　in　the　streets；　you　meet　them　wherever　you　go！〃

〃And　how　do　you　tell　them；　may　I　ask？〃　said　Bosinney。

〃By　their　sense　of　property。　　A　Forsyte　takes　a　practicalone　might　say　a　commonsenseview　of　things；　and　a　practical　view　of　things　is　based　fundamentally　on　a　sense　of　property。　　A　Forsyte；　you　will　notice；　never　gives　himself　away。〃

〃Joking？〃

Young　Jolyon's　eye　twinkled。

〃Not　much。　　As　a　Forsyte　myself；　I　have　no　business　to　talk。　　But　I'm　a　kind　of　thoroughbred　mongrel；　now；　there's　no　mistaking　you：　You're　as　different　from　me　as　I　am　from　my　Uncle　James；　who　is　the　perfect　specimen　of　a　Forsyte。　　His　sense　of　property　is　extreme；　while　you　have　practically　none。　　Without　me　in　between；　you　would　seem　like　a　different　species。　　I'm　the　missing　link。　We　are；　of　course；　all　of　us　the　slaves　of　property；　and　I　admit　that　it's　a　question　of　degree；　but　what　I　call　a　'Forsyte'　is　a　man　who　is　decidedly　more　than　less　a　slave　of　property。　　He　knows　a　good　thing；　he　knows　a　safe　thing；　and　his　grip　on　propertyit　doesn't　matter　whether　it　be　wives；　houses；　money；　or　reputationis　his　hall…mark。〃

〃Ah！〃　murmured　Bosinney。　　〃You　should　patent　the　word。〃

〃I　should　like；〃　said　young　Jolyon；　〃to　lecture　on　it：

〃Properties　and　quality　of　a　Forsyte：　This　little　animal；　disturbed　by　the　ridicule　of　his　own　sort；　is　unaffected　in　his　motions　by　the　laughter　of　strange　creatures　（you　or　I）。　Hereditarily　disposed　to　myopia；　he　recognises　only　the　persons　of　his　own　species；　amongst　which　he　passes　an　existence　of　competitive　tranquillity。〃

〃You　talk　of　them；〃　said　Bosinney；　〃as　if　they　were　half　England。〃

〃They　are；〃　repeated　young　Jolyon；　〃half　England；　and　the　better　half；　too；　the　safe　half；　the　three　per　cent。　Half；　the　half　that　counts。　　It's　their　wealth　and　security　that　makes　everything　possible；　makes　your　art　possible；　makes　literature；　science；　even　religion；　possible。　　Without　Forsytes；　who　believe　in　none　of　these　things；　and　habitats　but　turn　them　all　to　use；　where　should　we　be？　　My　dear　sir；　the　Forsytes　are　the　middlemen；　the　commercials；　the　pillars　of　society；　the　cornerstones　of　convention；　everything　that　is　admirable！〃

〃I　don't　know　whether　I　catch　your　drift；〃　said　Bosinney；　〃but　I　fancy　there　are　plenty　of　Forsytes；　as　you　call　them；　in　my　profession。〃

〃Certainly；〃　replied　young　Jolyon。　　〃The　great　majority　of　architects；　painters；　or　writers　have　no　principles；　like　any　other　Forsytes。　　Art；　literature；　religion；　survive　by　virtue　of　the　few　cranks　who　really　believe　in　such　things；　and　the　many　Forsytes　who　make　a　commercial　use　of　them。　　At　a　low　estimate；　three…fourths　of　our　Royal　Academicians　are　Forsytes；　seven…　eighths　of　our　novelists；　a　large　proportion　of　the　press。　Of　science　I　can't　speak；　they　are　magnificently　represented　in　religion；　in　the　House　of　Commons　perhaps　more　numerous　than　anywhere；　the　aristocracy　speaks　for　itself。　　But　I'm　not　laughing。　　It　is　dangerous　to　go　against　the　majority　and　what　a　majority！〃　　He　fixed　his　eyes　on　Bosinney：　〃It's　dangerous　to　let　anything　carry　you　awaya　house；　a　picture；　awoman！〃

They　looked　at　each　other。And；　as　though　he　had　done　that　which　no　Forsyte　didgiven　himself　away；　young　Jolyon　drew　into　his　shell。　　Bosinney　broke　the　silence。

〃Why　do　you　take　your　own　people　as　the　type？〃　said　he。

〃My　people；〃　replied　young　Jolyon；　〃are　not　very　extreme；　and　they　have　their　own　private　peculiarities；　like　every　other　family；　but　they　possess　in　a　remarkable　degree　those　two　qualities　which　are　the　real　tests　of　a　Forsytethe　power　of　never　being　able　to　give　yourself　up　to　anything　soul　and　body；　and　the　'sense　of　property'。〃

Bosinney　smiled：　〃How　about　the　big　one；　for　instance？〃

〃Do　you　mean　Swithin？〃　asked　young　Jolyon。　　〃Ah！　in　Swithin　there's　something　primeval　still。　　The　town　and　middle…class　life　haven't　digested　him　yet。　　All　the　old　centuries　of　farmwork　and　brute　force　have　settled　in　him；　and　there　they've　stuck；　for　all　he's　so　distinguished。〃

Bosinney　seemed　to　ponder。　　〃Well；　you've　hit　your　cousin　Soames　off　to　the　life；〃　he　said　suddenly。　　〃He'll　never　blow　his　brains　out。〃

Young　Jolyon　shot　at　him　a　penetrating　glance。

〃No；〃　he　said；　〃he　won't。　　That's　why　he's　to　be　reckoned　with。

Look　out　for　their　grip！　　It's　easy　to　laugh；　but　don't　mistake　me。　　It　doesn't　do　to　despise　a　Forsyte；　it　doesn't　do　to　disregard　them！〃

〃Yet　you've　done　it　yourself！〃

Young　Jolyon　acknowledged　the　hit　by　losing　his　smile。

〃You　forget；〃　he　said　with　a　queer　pride；　〃I　can　hold　on；　too　I'm　a　Forsyte　myself。　　We're　all　in　the　path　of　great　forces。　The　man　who　leaves　the　shelter　of　the　wallwellyou　know　what　I　mean。　　I　don't；〃　he　ended　very　low；　as　though　uttering　a　threat；　〃recommend　every　man　to…go…my…way。　　It　depends。〃

The　colour　rushed　into　Bosinney's　face；　but　soon　receded；　leaving　it　sallow…brown　as　before。　　He　gave　a　short　laugh；　that　left　his　lips　fixed　in　a　queer；　fierce　smile；　his　eyes　mocked　young　Jolyon。

〃Thanks；〃　he　said。　　〃It's　deuced　kind　of　you。　　But　you're　not　the　only　chaps　that　can　hold　on。〃　　He　rose。

Young　Jolyon　looked　after　him　as　he　walked　away；　and；　resting　his　head　on　his　hand；　sighed。

In　the　drowsy；　almost　empty　room　the　only　sounds　were　the　rustle　of　newspapers；　the　scraping　of　matches　being　struck。　　He　stayed　a　long　time　without　moving；　living　over　again　those　days　when　he；　too；　had　sat　long　hours　watching　the　clock；　waiting　for　the　minutes　to　passlong　hours　full　of　the　torments　of　uncertainty；　and　of　a　fierce；　sweet　aching；　and　the　slow；　delicious　agony　of　that　season　came　back　to　him　with　its　old　poignancy。　　The　sight　of　Bosinney；　with　his　haggard　face；　and　his　restless　eyes　always　wandering　to　the　clock；　had　roused　in　him　a　pity；　with　which　was　mingled　strange；　irresistible　envy。

He　knew　the　signs　so　well。　　Whither　was　he　goingto　what　sort　of　fate？　　What　kind　of　woman　was　it　who　was　drawing　him　to　her　by　that　magnetic　force　which　no　consideration　of　honour；　no　principle；　no　interest　could　withstand；　from　which　the　only　escape　was　flight。

Flight！　　But　why　should　Bosinney　fly？　　A　man　fled　when　he　was　in　danger　of　destroying　hearth　and　home；　when　there　were　children；　when　he　felt　himself　trampling　down　ideals；　breaking　something。　But　here；　so　he　had　heard；　it　was　all　broken　to　his　hand。

He　himself　had　not　fled；　nor　would　he　fly　if　it　were　all　to　come　over　again。　　Yet　he　had　gone　further　than　Bosinney；　had　broken　up　his　own　unhappy　home；　not　someone　else's：　And　the　old　saying　came　back　to　him：　'A　man's　fate　lies　in　his　own　heart。'

In　his　own　heart！　　The　proof　of　the　pudding　was　in　the　eating　Bosinney　had　still　to　eat　his　pudding。

His　thoughts　passed　to　the　woman；　the　woman　whom　he　did　not　know；　but　the　outline　of　whose　story　he　had　heard。

An　unhappy　marriage！　　No　ill…treatmentonly　that　indefinable　malaise；　that　terrible　blight　which　killed　all　sweetness　under　Heaven；　and　so　from　day　to　day；　from　night　to　night；　from　week　to　week；　from　year　to　year；　till　death　should　end　it

But　young　Jolyon；　the　bitterness　of　whose　own　feelings　time　had　assuaged；　saw　Soames'　side　of　the　question　too。　　Whence　should　a　man　like　his　cousin；　saturated　with　all　the　prejudices　and　beliefs　of　his　class；　draw　the　insight　or　inspiration　necessary　to　break　up　this　life？　　It　was　a　question　of　imagination；　of　projecting　himself　into　the　future　beyond　the　unpleasant　gossip；　sneers；　and　tattle　that　followed　on　such　separations；　beyond　the　passing　pangs　that　the　lack　of　the　sight　of　her　would　cause；　beyond　the　grave　disapproval　of　the　worthy。　　But　few　men；　and　especially　few　men　of　Soames'　class；　had　imagination　enough　for　that。　　A　deal　of　mortals　in　this　world；　and　not　enough　imagination　to　go　round！　　And　sweet　Heaven；　what　a　difference　between　theory　and　practice；　many　a　man；　perhaps　even　Soames；　held　chivalrous　views　on　such　matters；　who　when　the　shoe　pinched　found　a　distinguishing　factor　that　made　of　himself　an　exception。

Then；　too；　he　distrusted　his　judgment。　　He　had　been　through　the　experience　himself；　had　tasted　too　the　dregs　the　bitterness　of　an　unhappy　marriage；　and　how　could　he　take　the　wide　and　dispassionate　view　of　those　who　had　never　been　within　sound　of　the　battle？　His　evidence　was　too　first…handlike　the　evidence　on　military　matters　of　a　soldier　who　has　been　through　much　active　service；　against　that　of　civilians　who　have　not　suffered　the　disadvantage　of　seeing　things　too　close。　　Most　people　would　consider　such　a　marriage　as　that　of　Soames　and　Irene　quite　fai