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The tragic death of philip bosinney would no doubt be accepted
as an accident, almost certainly
by the coroner, and without any doubt,
by the forsyte family.
Yet to my mi
and I know the same thought was in my father's,
bosinney's death was no accident.
The forsytes had surely killed him.
And why not, they might well ask.
The poor buccaneer had threatened
their ble possessions:
Their money and the sanctity of the hearth.
Retribution, they'd call it. Upon bosinney, upon irene,
who had dared to fall in love,
even upon june, for bringing him
into the family circle.
Who's going to tell her? - June?
Yes. I can't bear the thought of it.
He was everything to her. I think helene
might, father. What?
Yes. Just after you left stanhope gate
an inspector appeared on the doorstep.
He told us both the news. I was going to fetch you at once,
but we went inside first, for a moment.
June was upstairs, dressing.
Helene thought that if she came down before we got back,
well, the news might come more easily from another woman.
Might, might. I'd be grateful if she has.
Hello.
Isn't grandpapa down yet?
And where's my... my father?
Has he left you by yourself? I'm so sorry.
June, will you come and sit down?
Why? - I have to tell you something,
something tragic and dreadful.
You must please prepare yourself
for a great shock. What is it?
What's happened? - Is it grandpapa?
Phil? Is it do
with phil? - He...
are you trying to tell me he's gone?
Gone away with...? - No, june. He
well, what then? - He had an accident.
An accident? - Oh, where is he? I must go
to him at once. June, dear.
Quick, tell me, where is he? He's dead.
No.
He was run over in the fog last night and was killed.
No!
No! It's not true.
It can't be true. It can't be!
But it is. Isn't it?
June...
Whoa!
Jo, I don't think you can be much help to june, but...
but what?
I'm thinking of that poor girl irene.
If she hasn't heard already, soames'll tell her.
Unless I'm mistaken, he won't be too squeamish about it.
Someone ought to go there. Father.
Tell her... tell her if you see her that I'll do anything I can.
Newspaper vendor:
London architect killed in fog! All the news, all the news,
all the latest! Horrible accident, london
architect killed in fog. Paper, sir?
Horrible accident, london architect killed in fog.
Look, here's half a crown. Go somewhere else.
Well, guv'nor, this is me beat.
Two half crowns, now go.
You've come back.
Why are you sitting here
in the dark?
I suppose you...
I suppose you've seen this.
You know he's dead.
That's why you've come back.
You've nowhere else to go, have you?
No, stay.
Where else should you be
but... here?
He was your lover,
wasn't he? - Don't deny it. I know now.
I know for certain. I don't deny anything.
Why? I don't understand why.
I'm a human being.
I'm a man. I love you.
You think you know what that word means?
Yes! You really think you know?
I think so.
Have I been good to you?
I've tried to be.
You had everything you want.
Except one thing. Oh, one thing! This freedom
you talk about, I suppose.
But we can't all be free
to do exactly as we like. And if we were, what sort of a
world do you think we'd live in? - Why there'd be no order.
No rules. No settled society.
The morals of the hen run.
Anarchy. Is that what you w
is that the way you think we should behave? Like animals?
Is that your idea of marriage? - That you should give yourself
any man that takes your fancy? - Do you want to live
like a whore? - Stay, you'll hear me out.
Very well, since it's for the last time.
But if I were... what you called me,
you'd have
no cause for complaint. Because you've tried to buy me
with your money and your position
and with your love. Yes, yes, you have loved me,
and I believe you still do, in your way.
But none of it, nothing you can offer,
is as much to me as one touch of his hand.
That's the freedom
i asked for, soames. The freedom to love once,
just once and forever.
But you denied me that because
love to you is greed and the lust for possession,
for ownership. I was speaking of marriage.
Yes, I know. And marriage is a contract,
freely entered into, with rights and obligations on both sides.
Our marriage is over. No!
Irene... look, couldn't we
begin again?
I've been harsh with you,
I know, I'm sorry.
But, I've suffered too,
you know. Yes. Damnably.
But we can get over this
in time.
I'll make no demands
on you. No, no, I mean that.
We can make a life together,
if we both try.
If there's anything
you want... just one thing.
What is it?
Your permission to stay here tonight.
As you so delicately said, I've nowhere else to go.
And tomorrow I'll be gone
from this house. You won't have to suffer
any more because of me. You're still my wife.
I'm not! I'm not your anything.
I don't understand you! No, you don't!
And you never will. But I'll say it once more,
I am not your property.
You don't own me,
and no one else ever will. Is that clear?
From now on I own myself!
Yes. Here, cabbie.
Wait for me, please.
Well, sir? What do you want?
Oh, it's you. Your door was open, soames.
Well? - Might I speak with your wife
for a moment? I have a... my wife can see no one.
I should only keep her a moment.
I said my wife can see no one.
This is my house.
I manage my own affairs. I've told you before,
We are not at home.
Well, I don't know.
That you, parfitt? - I shan't want anything more.
You can go to bed. I'll lock up.
It's jo, father. Ah, there you are.
Where's helene? - Upstairs with june.
The child fainted when your wife told her.
She's better now, but helene insisted on staying with her.
Yes, she well, did you see
the man of property? - Yes, I saw him.
And I saw his wife. Just for a moment.
Father?
But these are mine. I didn't
yeah, I've picked them up from time to time.
At a reasonable figu you don't charge much
for your work. I charge what I can get.
I notice you haven't hung them anywhere?
Well, no, I was... hardly your style, eh?
Well, frankly, my boy, wishy-washy?
No. I wouldn't say that. Perhaps a little too small?
Well, I am a forsyte. We like a lot for our money.
That's a principle soames carries too far, much too far.
What is it, jo?
Did he say anything? - Yes, he told me
to mind my own business. That's his privilege,I suppose.
He wouldn't let me talk to irene, but I saw her,
just for an instant.
She only half saw me, I think for a moment she
believed she was seeing a miracle.
That young bosinney had come back from the dead.
Then she understood and her face went cold, like a stone,
and soames slammed the door in my face.
Well that's his privilege too,I suppose.
But stil...yes, but the thought of her, shut up there with him,
after all that's happened. It's intolerable.
Poor little thing. One shouldn't condone immorality, I suppose.
But... no.
I take it she was the young fellow's mistress?
Yes, I'm certain of it. It's a coil, isn't it?
But jo, the older I get, the less ready I am to condemn
the young for what they do. I can't help it.
Young people ought to be happy if they can.
We're young for too short a time.
I agree with y but I'm quite sure
i'm the only forsyte who would. I dare say.
What will she do? - Well, she won't stay with
soames, I'm certain of that. The question is,
what will he do? - Will he divorce her?
He'll think twice. There's a scandal
in his precious career. Lawyers don't like getting mixed
up with the law, you know. No, he'll hold on.
She's his wife, and a wife's a man's property
just as much as a carriage or a house.
Oh, he'll hold on as long as he can.
Yes, he's a tenacious brute. Father, there's something
i haven't told you, but I think perhaps
you should know. You are the head
of the family. Much anyone thinks
of that nowadays. What is it?
After I left soames' house, I bumped into cousin george.
Oh, that chap. Yes, apparently, he was the last
person to see bosinney alive. What?
Yes, he found him wandering about in the fog.
At first cousin george thought that the buccaneer was drunk.
He was weaving all over the place,
didn't seem to care what was happening to him.
He was talking a lot too. "Babbling", as george called it.
But he heard enough to understan
what the poor devil was going through.
Apparently irene had just told him something
which had driven him out of his mind.
It appears the night before soames had decided to exercise
his rights as a husband,
irene resisted,
and soames used force.
But that's barbarous.
I refuse to believe it.
George was positive, father. Utterly revolting!
Poor woman, poor woman. Yes, and poor bosinney.
But if it is true, it explains a lot.
Why did you think it necessary to tell me, jo?
It'll get about.
You mean george will tell others?
He might. He's a malicious chap.
He never could be doing with soames.
It's best that you should know. A terrible thing. Terrible!
Will you take some more brandy, jo?
Yes, a little more, thank you. You see george sometimes,
don't you? - At my club, yes.
Tell him to keep his mouth shut.
This is not a thing to get about.
If he tells just one more person, I...
here, my boy. All right, father.
Come on. Sit down. This'll do us both good.
I've had a shock.
I won't deny it.
All right.
Yes.
You see a house in a fashionable square:
Trim. Elegant. Distinguished.
The family who live there, equally so.
And suddenly you catch a glimpse
of the reality behind the fa�ade.
For a moment, just a moment, you're aware.
Violence. Desperation. Wild passion.
It's a rum old world, father.
No wonder you're shocked. That's as may be, but we're none
of us eager to leave it, are we? - No, I suppose not.
Go on wanting things. With one foot in the grave,
we'll want something, I shouldn't wonder.
Jo, this business has helped me to make up my mind:
I'm too old.
Nonsense. For london, I mean.
All this noise and rushing about.
No, I shall resign from my boards
and sell this great barrack of a place.
Yeah? And what then?
Robin hill.
What? Bosinney's place? - Soames' house?
I believe he'll sell. James thinks so.
And I'll buy, if the price is right.
But only on one condition.
What's that? - That you come too. You
and your wife and the children.
Well, I should like it
of course. But I can't answer
for helene. I dare say we shall get on.
What about j after this we may have to make
other arrangements for june. But what about you?
You agree? - Well I'll put it to helene of
course, I think she must be glad for the children's s
but, well, you know how unpredictable she can be.
She worries too much, and she's too thin.
Well, father, if helene agrees,
I agree with all my heart.
Good, good, we
come and see me tomorrow when you've talked it over, eh?
Roger, dear, you must be very proud of little francie.
Oh, it's a charming waltz.
What does she call this one? - "The kensington coil",
I believe.
How appropriate.
Yes, it does have a sweet dip to the melody.
And is this one to be published too?
Of course it is. So she tells
roger, don't pretend not to know.
It's coming out next week. The same firm that published her
"songs for little people" and "kiss me, mother,
ere I die."
Euphemia tells me
there's money in it. Money? What sort of money,
I'd like to know. Oh, quite a lot, uncle.
Enough to buy all her clothes. You don't tell
roger should put a stop to it, in my opinion.
Good heavens, why? - Music, poetry, a lot
of time-wasting rubbish. If you ask me, all very well
for a pack of foreigners,
but an english girl,
who knows what company she'll be keeping?
A lot of riff-raff, I shouldn't wonder.
Oh, uncle nicholas, that point of view is quite out of date.
Girls do all sorts of things nowadays.
They always did, what?
They always did. But she's a clever little thing,
well turned out. Damn me if I don't take her
for a drive one of these days. And did you see the critiques
in the ladies' genteel guide? - No!
No? - Oh, winifred cut it out for me.
One moment.
Thank you, my dear. That was very nice.
Thank you, aunt juley. Well done, francie.
I wish I had your talent. Now, do you think it will sell?
Smith and latchmore think so.
I made them raise my royalties for it.
Raise your royalties? - "If you don't",
I said, "I shall take
my immortal works elsewhere."
Somehow, roger,
I can't help regretting that francie doesn't compose
classical music.
She did, once. Really?
A violin sonata, she called it, or some such nonsense.
It didn't sell 30 copies.
Ah, here it is. Now, listen everybody.
"We have pleasure in noticing the latest
"of miss francie forsyte's' "spirited ditties, entitled
'grandma's porgy. '
"It is both sparkling and
pathetic, and we ourselves
"were moved to tears and laughter.
Miss forsyte should go far." There!
Don't go too far, dear.
Talking of going far, they tell me soames has given up
his london house.
Yes, aunt, he... gone to live in brighton,
I hear. Ah, some very good property
in brighton. It's a growing place,
they tell me, though why it should be,
I don't know. I believe the sea breeze
is a very beneficial... has anybody seen
anything of...? - Soames travels up daily
to the office. He finds the walk
to the station... I've seen her.
Who, dear? - In the morning.
Irene. Well, that's who you meant, wasn't it?
Yes, dear, of course. Yes, I saw her at a concert
by herself, looking beautiful and sad.
You know, I've always
rather liked her. If you ask me,
I think soames should... soames should do what, nicholas?
Get her back? - Is that what you mean?
She'd never go back. After, what is it? Four years?
Four years of freedom? - I know I wouldn'T.
You shouldn't know anything at all about such things.
Oh, don't be so stuffy, father. Women nowadays know everything.
What I want to know is if irene does go back to soames,
where will they live?
There's no question of t because jolyon's gone and bought
soames' house, hasn't he? - Yes, but, aunt,
that's old history. Oh, is it?
And jo living there with that immoral german girl.
His wife, aunt.
Oh, I dare say. But timothy thinks it's
all quite irregular. And june there. And those
children. Well... it's a very decent little house.
I've seen it. Very pretty little cellar.
A gentleman's house. That's what james said.
A gentleman's house. And whatever we may say about
mr. Bosinney... I would prefer it
if he were not mentioned. He must have been
a very clever young man to build a house like that.
I do wish I could have seen it.
There, boy. What is it?
Don't let that dog touch your frock.
He's got wet paws.
Here, boy. I don't mind.
What's his name?
Balthasar. Don't ask me why.
They've all gone to spain.
I'm alone.
Would you care
to come up to the house?
Thank you, uncle jolyon.
I should like to. Good. Good.
I dare say it's not quite
as you remember it. My son's a painter, you know.
He's got a french taste in things.
It's not mine, but there, the place will belong to him
when I'm gone. It's elegant.
You'll stay to dinner?
It's a lonely business eating all by yourself.
You said they were all away?
In spain. Jo had always wanted
to paint there and helene needed a holiday.
She worries, you know. And she's not been well.
June decided to go with them. So all I have left
is little holly. Isn't there a grandson?
Oh, yes, jolly. A fine little chap,
but he's at school. His first year at harrow.
Ah, mademoiselle, how is she?
Very well now, I think. Good, good.
I believe she sleeps now. Holly's been upset.
Too many strawberries, eh, mademoiselle?
No, sir. May I introduce mademoiselle
beuce, holly's governess. Mademoiselle, this is my niece.
How do you do, mademoiselle? - My name is mrs. Heron.
Enchant�e, madame. Now, mademoiselle,
mrs. Heron is dining with me. Will you take her up
to miss june's room, and see she has hot water
and so on? - Certainly, sir.
Dinner's in a half an hour. I shan't change.
Please come with me, madam. Thank you.
Sir?
Ah! Plunket, I forgot to say i have a lady to dinner with me.
Tell cook to do something extra.
Very good, sir. And plunket, one more thing.
Go down to the cellar, turn right inside the door,
first bin on your right you'll find 14 bottles of hock.
Bring me up one of those,
plunket, but handle it like a baby, will you?
That's a steinberg cabernet. I bought it 35 years ago.
I doubt there's four dozen bottles left in england.
Chill it now, and it'll be just right for dinnertime.
Th
we'll take coffee in the drawing room.
Very good, sir. A glass of p
i'd rather just finish this, if I may.
It's a superb wine.
I wouldn't give it to everybody.
Tell me, where are
you living now? - Chelsea.
I have a little flat there. You're alone?
Quite alone. What do you do all day?
Teach music.
I have another interest too. Work, there's nothing
like it, is there? - I don't do any now.
I'm getting on, you know. What's the other interest?
Trying to help women who've come to grief.
To grief?
Lord, I see.
What can you do for them?
Not much. I've no money to spare,
but I belong to a society,
just a few of us.
We do what we can. How do you... I mean,
how do you find them? - Through the hospitals.
The hospitals.
That's a sad, terrible business.
What hurts chiefly is that once they were all children,
pretty children too,
most of them. I don't know how you...
I can't bear to think about... I shouldn't have mentioned it.
No, no. These things do exist,
alongside our comfortable world.
My comfortable world.
Good to be reminded of them from time to time.
Shall we go into
the drawing room?
Perhaps you'll play to me.
I should like to. I'll join you in a minute when
i've found a cigar.
Is there anything you'd especially like to hear? - Mozart?
Mendelssohn? - More chopin.
It's an evening for chopin, don't you think?
Indeed I do.
Nocturnes? Preludes?
Yes. But come and have a coffee.
And some cognac to go with it. Oh, no cognac, thank you.
And no coffee. But I'll pour some for you.
Thank you.
Without cream, please.
Does this annoy you?
On the contrary. Curious thing.
Strong cigars and wagner's music.
Seem to go together, and I never could abide either.
As I get older, beethoven.
Mozart, of course. Handel, yes.
Schubert. But above all, chopin.
That seem strange to you?
Sentimental? - No, he was not sentimental.
He loved beauty.
Beautiful.
To look at you and listen to chopin,
more than a man deserves.
I've said something
to upset you.
There, there, my love.
Now, now. Now, now, now.
There, there.
It's okay. All right.
There, there.
Yes.
All right.
All over now.
I'm sorry. Forgive me.
Forgive me.
Now, you must come again.
Come for lunch. You'll meet holly.
She's a dear little thing. And that dog's taken a fancy to you.
The carriage is waiting, sir.
Thank you.
He'll get you back to town in an hour or so.
Here, this is for your prot�g�S.
Fifty pounds! Oh, how kind you are.
Rubbish. Say no more.
Very well.But thank you.
I'll go and put my hat on.
Thank you.
Plunket.
Yes, sir? - Tell beacon to have the landau
at the door at 10:00 tomorrow.
I'm going up to london.
Come in, uncle jolyon.
Tell me, what do you pay
for a place like this?
Forty pounds a year.
You don't think that's too much, do you?
No. Reasonable enough, I dare say.
Oh, do sit down. Thank you.
I did enjoy our drive, and that splendid tea at ruffels.
It was like being a child again,
taken out for a treat in the holidays.
We must do it again.
Uncle jolyon, has june forgiven me?
She doesn't speak about it,
but I should think so. Why not?
Have you? - Yes, just as soon
as I knew how the land lay. I regret nothing.
I couldn'T.
When you were young, did you ever love very deeply?
Ah, love's a strange thing,
sometimes a fatal thing.
The old greeks knew that, that's
why they made love a goddess.
I dare say they were right.
Philip adored them, the way they gave themselves to art.
He did too.
He had something of the sculpto. Yes, yes, he loved good line,
balance, symmetry, the golden age of design
and architecture. Do you know... he once said
that he felt you belonged to it?
What?
He said you had a real sense of beauty.
The devil he did.
Well, so I have, or I wouldn't be sitting here with you.
It's strange enough that I'm
here, that I'm alive at all.
That night
that night, my son saw you for a moment.
Was that your son?
Yes. I thought for a second
it was philip. Early in the morning,
I went down to the river. I didn't care whether
i lived or died, but I was thinking of death.
A woman saw me hesitating.
She caught me by the arm.
One of those women? - She told me her story,
and I was ashamed. When you know what other people
suffer, you're ashamed.
She took care of me
for three days. I had no money
and no hope. She never left me un
i was able to face the thought of living.
And that's why you... that's why I do what I can
for them now.
No money!
I wish you'd come to me.
Why didn't you?
Because my name is forsyte?
Or was it june that kept you away?
Well, no matter.
From now on, you must come to me for anything you need.
If you don't,
I shall be quite cut up. Thank you.
I manage very well. Now, you're coming to lunch
on sunday, don't forget. Thank you. I won'T.
You mustn't come down
if you find it dull. Dull?
Hvenly. Well, it's a pleasure
to see you. Little holly's face is the only
one here I care to look at, except yours.
And that's not humbug. I never told a woman I admired
her when I didn'T.
Except my wife in the old days.
When holly marries, I shan't be here to see it.
I don't like to think of her being hurt.
That dog will scratch.
Does soames ever trouble you?
No. I haven't seen him.
Ah, that's a comfort. Shall we take a turn around the garden?
- I might find you a nectarine.
I should like that. Good.
To dance on sundays!
The little tayleurs never behaved so.
The tayleurs were such well-bred children.
My fault, mademoiselle.
Bah, better the day, better the deed.
Go on, chicken, have your tea.
We have shocked mademoiselle.
She's a thin, rum little soul.
As for the tayleurs... a little priggish?
Holly hates them. The tayleurs are constantly held up as an example.
Gives her a dreadful feeling of inferiority.
And in mademoiselle's next place,
she'll frighten her pupils with the virtues of the little forsytes.
I dare say, I dare say.
But holly's musical, I think.
You haven't heard her play, will you give me an opinion?
Of course I will. You wouldn't like to teach her,would you?
I should like to very much,
but what about june? They'll be coming home soon.
What does that matter? - She may have forgiven me, as you said,
but she'd never forget. Nonsense. She must forget.
Because you say so, uncle jolyon?
She's a forsyte too. Yes. We're a stubborn lot.
Oh, it's so hard to refuse you when you've been so kind to me.
Then you'll come?
Twice a week until your family returns.
Then we'll see.
Damn it, jo.
That's not bad, that's not at all bad.
Jo?
Coming.
Did it go well?
Yes, my love. I think I've captured it.
Tell me, how are you?
Are you feeling any better? - How's that migraine?
Oh, much better. Much, much better.
But tell me, what have you captured?
Simplicity.
I don't understand. Well, I'll try and explain.
Now, when you first start to paint in watercolors,
you take a small brush, like this.
Then you wet it, and fill it with color.
Now let's say... chrome yellow.
By all means, jo. Chrome yellow it is.
Then you lay the brush gently on the paper,
you move it ever so slightly,
and you lift it. And what have you got?
Let me imagine. I think what you have is
the first petal of a flower.
Right.
A daisy, perhaps. A yellow daisy.
Oh, I love you. You can see it.
Oh, yes, jo. I can see the first petal of a daisy.
Something you can't improve upon
no matter how much you fiddle with tone, shadows, half-lights.
All you're doing, however clever and subtle you think you are,
is getting further and further away
from your first clear vision of a daisy.
And this you have learned here, in spain?
No, I think i've always known it.
The trouble is we're so bound by the conventional.
What other painters have done before us.
All very well, of course. But the academics and teachers
lay down as rules what should only be guidelines.
But here, in this spanish light,
where the colors are harsh
and the shadows solid...you see clearly. Yes, I think so.
For the first time in my life.
And will you wish to stay here?
Oh, of course not!
If it's real, this way of looking at thi
then it must be just as real in england as it is out here.
Anyway, I have to find out.
I'm glad, jo.
I pine a little for england.
Then we shall go home.
Next week.
Letters for us all.
Ah. A batch for you, father.
Thank you. One for me from grandpapa.
And one for you, helene.
Are you better?
Oh yes, thank you, yes. Oh, this is from holly.
Oh, sweet. She's so sweet.
Listen, jo. "Balthasar always comes when
we pick strawberries, "but he won't eat any.
"He thinks we're r "and gets very cross
like mademoiselle. "She's being very tiresome,
but she doesn't mean it. "Balthasar and grandpapa
send their love. "I've got a ne music teacher.
"She is beautiful and isn't a bit cross
"and gives me pieces to play,
"not these stupid scales... all the time."
Oh, all the time. "She and grandpapa
go to concerts sometimes "and she plays me the music
they've heard. She's not our real aunt,
grandpapa says..."
real aunt?
"But I'm allowed to call her aunt irene."
Irene?
Well?
Very fine. This chap, massenet,
he's no mozart, but... confess, uncle jolyon,
you like it. Very well, I like it.
It's extremely important, uncle jolyon,
for your continued enjoyment of music,
that you entertain a totally novel idea.
Oh, what's that? - The notion, subversive
though it may seem, that since beethoven
and mozart, there have been other
composers of merit. You're making fun of me.
Yes. I'm glad you should feel like doing so.
Irene, I've been wanting to say this to you.
Don't get wrapped up in the past.
Mustn't waste life.
Too little of it. And when you get to be
an old chap, like me, you know what you've missed
because you've been cautious all your days, too cautious
to take what life offers.
I have accepted it.
You know I've accepted it. Yes, you have,
but you're still young. Go on accepting it.
Of all the forsytes I've met, you are the most unpredictable.
You've not met my son, have you?
You don't know my boy, jo. We've had our differences,
but looking back, I have to admit
that he's been right. Yes, on the whole,he's been right.
I've put off telling you this, I won't deny it.
They're coming back.
Next monday. June too?
Yes, but this must make no difference.
Holly must still have her lessons.
You will still come down? - Uncle jolyon...
dear uncle jolyon,
you know it's impossible. There can be no more lessons.
No more operas,
no more visits to robin hill.
Excuse me, sir.
A telegram, sir. The boy's waiting for an answer.
Telegram?
No answer, plunket.
Ah, mrs. Heron is coming to lunch.
Tell cook, will you?
Yes, sir.
Ah. Bal, bal, bal, balthasar!
Come, boy! Come, we'll meet her.
Your letter received. Will be with you
12:30 this morning. Love, irene.
Come on, you old rag-bag.
Come on, boy! Come on, eh?
Mommy!
"To my granddaughter,june forsyte,
"50,000 pounds in trust,
"the income to be hers entirely, free of legacy duty.
"And if she marries, to be held in trust for her heirs,
"and so on and so forth.
"And to my beloved niece, irene forsyte,
"born irene heron,
"by which name she is now known,
I leave the sum of 15,000 pounds."
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