John Galsworthy

flower

"Take the flower from my breast, I pray thee,

And behind this outburst the inarticulate violence of primitive generations seemed to mutter and grumble.

together with the least touch of West Indian—Swithin was so long over this course that

vieux jeu,' Soames Forsyte inhabited a house which di

garden-beds looked 'daverdy'

George, the acknowledged wag, had named him: 'Sankey.'

welshed by some thimble-riggers.

respect you as a man of business; and you can't expect me to believe a word you say

Could a man own anything prettier than this dining-table with its deep tints, the starry, soft-petalled roses, the ruby-coloured glass, and quaint silver furnishing; could a man own anything prettier than the woman who sat at it?