that she had loathed him for years, that for all
intents and purposes they were like people living in different worlds,
that there was no hope for him, never had been; even, that she had
suffered--that she was to be pitied.

In that moment of emotion he betrayed the Forsyte in him--forgot himself,
his interests, his property--was capable of almost anything; was lifted
into the pure ether of the selfless and unpractical.

Such moments pass quickly.

And as though with the tears he had purged himself of weakness, he got
up, locked the box, and slowly, almost trembling, carried it with him
into the other room.

CHAPTER VII

JUNE'S VICTORY

June had waited for her chance, scanning the duller columns of the
journals, morning and evening with an assiduity which at first puzzled
old Jolyon; and when her chance came, she took it with all the
promptitude and resolute tenacity of her character.

She will always remember best in her life that morning when at last she
saw amongst the reliable Cause List of the Times newspaper, under the
heading of Court XIII, Mr. Justice Bentham, the case of Forsyte v.
Bosinney.

Like a gambler who stakes his last piece of money, she had prepared to
hazard her all upon this throw; it was not her nature to contemplate
defeat. How, unless with the instinct of a woman in love, she knew that
Bosinney's discomfiture in this action was assured, cannot be told--on
this assumption, however, she laid her plans, as upon a certainty.

Half past eleven found her at watch in the gallery of Court XIII., and
there she remained till the case of Forsyte v. Bosinney was over.
Bosinney's absence did not disquiet her; she had felt instinctively that
he would not defend himself. At the end of the judgment she hastened
down, and took a cab to his rooms.

She passed the open street-door and the offices on the three lower floors
without attracting notice; not till she reached the top did her
difficulties begin.

Her ring was not answered; she had now to make up her mind whether she
would go down and ask the caretaker in the basement to let her in to
await Mr. Bosinney's return, or remain patiently outside the door,
trusting that no one would, come up. She decided on the latter course.

A quarter of an hour had passed in freezing vigil on the landing, before
it occurred to her that Bosinney had been used to leave the key of his
rooms under the door-mat. She looked and found it there. For some
mi