Opportunists and egotists one and all--though not, indeed, more so than their neighbours--they quailed before her incorruptible figure, and, when opportunities were too strong, what could they do but avoid her! Twisting his long, thin legs, James went on: "Jolyon, he will have his own way.

He's got no children"-- and stopped, recollecting the continued existence of old Jolyon's son, young Jolyon, June's father, who had made such a mess of it, and done for himself by deserting his wife and child and running away with that foreign governess.

"Well," he resumed hastily, "if he likes to do these things, I s'pose he can afford to.

Now, what's he going to give her?
I s'pose he'll give her a thousand a year; he's got nobody else to leave his money to." He stretched out his hand to meet that of a dapper, clean-shaven man, with hardly a hair on his head, a long, broken nose, full lips, and cold grey eyes under rectangular brows.
"Well, Nick," he muttered, "how are you ?" Nicholas Forsyte, with his bird-like rapidity and the look of a preternaturally sage schoolboy (he had made a large fortune, quite legitimately, out of the companies of which he was a director), placed within that cold palm the tips of his still colder fingers and hastily withdrew them.
"I'm bad," he said, pouting--"been bad all the week; don't sleep at night.

The doctor can't tell why.