There it was again--again! Soames
shut the window, shuddering.
Then he thought: 'Ah! it's only the peacocks, across the water.'
CHAPTER XII--JUNE PAYS SOME CALLS
Jolyon stood in the narrow hall at Broadstairs, inhaling that odour
of oilcloth and herrings which permeates all respectable seaside
lodging-houses. On a chair--a shiny leather chair, displaying its
horsehair through a hole in the top left-hand corner--stood a black
despatch case. This he was filling with papers, with the Times, and a
bottle of Eau-de Cologne. He had meetings that day of the 'Globular Gold
Concessions' and the 'New Colliery Company, Limited,' to which he was
going up, for he never missed a Board; to 'miss a Board' would be one
more piece of evidence that he was growing old, and this his jealous
Forsyte spirit could not bear.
His eyes, as he filled that black despatch case, looked as if at any
moment they might blaze up with anger. So gleams the eye of a schoolboy,
baited by a ring of his companions; but he controls himself, deterred by
the fearful odds against him. And old Jolyon controlled himself,
keeping down, with his masterful restraint now slowly wearing out, the
irritation fostered in him by the conditions of his life.
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