re!
The heavy, brutal crushing--out that all men must go through, keeping
their eyes clear and brave unto the end! Small and of no import, insects
though they are! And across old Jolyon's face there flitted a gleam, for
Soames, murmuring to the Inspector, crept noiselessly away.

Then suddenly James raised his eyes. There was a queer appeal in that
suspicious troubled look: "I know I'm no match for you," it seemed to
say. And, hunting for handkerchief he wiped his brow; then, bending
sorrowful and lank over the dead man, he too turned and hurried out.

Old Jolyon stood, still as death, his eyes fixed on the body. Who shall
tell of what he was thinking? Of himself, when his hair was brown like
the hair of that young fellow dead before him? Of himself, with his
battle just beginning, the long, long battle he had loved; the battle
that was over for this young man almost before it had begun? Of his
grand-daughter, with her broken hopes? Of that other woman? Of the
strangeness, and the pity of it? And the irony, inscrutable, and bitter
of that end? Justice! There was no justice for men, for they were ever
in the dark!

Or perhaps in his philosophy he thought: Better to be out of, it all!
Better to have done with it, like this poor youth....

Some one touched him on the arm.

A tear started up and wetted his eyelash. "Well," he said, "I'm no good
here. I'd better be going. You'll come to me as soon as you can, Jo,"
and with his head bowed he went away.

It was young Jolyon's turn to take his stand beside the dead man, round
whose fallen body he seemed to see all the Forsytes breathless, and
prostrated. The stroke had fallen too swiftly.

The forces underlying every tragedy--forces that take no denial, working
through cross currents to their ironical end, had met and fused with
a thunder-clap, flung out the victim, and flattened to the ground all
those that stood around.

Or so at all events young Jolyon seemed to see them, lying around
Bosinney's body.

He asked the Inspector to tell him what had happened, and the latter,
like a man who does not every day get such a chance, again detailed such
facts as were known.

"There's more here, sir, however," he said, "than meets the eye. I don't
believe in suicide, nor in pure accident, myself. It's more likely I
think that he was suffering under great stress of mind, and took no
notice of things about him. Perhaps you can throw some light on these."

He took from his po