He had
begun to retrace his steps when he at last caught sight of Bosinney.
The architect was sprawling under a large oak tree, whose trunk, with a
huge spread of bough and foliage, ragged with age, stood on the verge of
the rise.
Soames had to touch him on the shoulder before he looked up.
"Hallo! Forsyte," he said, "I've found the very place for your house!
Look here!"
Soames stood and looked, then he said, coldly:
"You may be very clever, but this site will cost me half as much again."
"Hang the cost, man. Look at the view!"
Almost from their feet stretched ripe corn, dipping to a small dark
copse beyond. A plain of fields and hedges spread to the distant
grey-bluedowns. In a silver streak to the right could be seen the line
of the river.
The sky was so blue, and the sun so bright, that an eternal summer
seemed to reign over this prospect. Thistledown floated round them,
enraptured by the serenity, of the ether. The heat danced over the
corn, and, pervading all, was a soft, insensible hum, like the murmur of
bright minutes holding revel between earth and heaven.
Soames looked. In spite of himself, something swelled in his breast.
To live here in sight of all this, to be able to point it out to his
friends, to talk of it, to possess it! His cheeks flushed.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106