nce.

"Well," he said, "they brought me up to do nothing, and here I am in the
sear and yellow, getting poorer every day. These Labour chaps mean to
have the lot before they've done. What are you going to do for a living
when it comes? I shall work a six-hour day teaching politicians how to
see a joke. Take my tip, Soames; go into Parliament, make sure of your
four hundred--and employ me."

And, as Soames retired, he resumed his seat in the bay window.

Soames moved along Piccadilly deep in reflections excited by his cousin's
words. He himself had always been a worker and a saver, George always a
drone and a spender; and yet, if confiscation once began, it was he--the
worker and the saver--who would be looted! That was the negation of all
virtue, the overturning of all Forsyte principles. Could civilization be
built on any other? He did not think so. Well, they wouldn't confiscate
his pictures, for they wouldn't know their worth. But what would they be
worth, if these maniacs once began to milk capital? A drug on the
market. 'I don't care about myself,' he thought; 'I could live on five
hundred a year, and never know the difference, at my age.' But Fleur!
This fortune, so widely invested, these treasures so carefully chosen and
amassed, were all for--her. And if it should turn out that he couldn't
give or leave them to her--well, life had no meaning, and what was the
use of going in to look at this crazy, futuristic stuff with the view of
seeing whether it had any future?

Arriving at the Gallery off Cork Street, however, he paid his shilling,
picked up a catalogue, and entered. Some ten persons were prowling
round. Soames took steps and came on what looked to him like a lamp-post
bent by collision with a motor omnibus. It was advanced some three paces
from the wall, and was described in his catalogue as "Jupiter." He
examined it with curiosity, having recently turned some of his attention
to sculpture. 'If that's Jupiter,' he thought, 'I wonder what Juno's
like.' And suddenly he saw her, opposite. She appeared to him like
nothing so much as a pump with two handles, lightly clad in snow. He was
still gazing at her, when two of the prowlers halted on his left.
"Epatant!" he heard one say.

"Jargon!" growled Soames to himself.

The other's boyish voice replied

"Missed it, old bean; he's pulling your leg. When Jove and Juno created
he them, he was saying: 'I'll see how much these fools will sw