Old Jolyon did not; he considered it cynical to so express oneself; he had not yet reached that point of old age when even Forsytes, bereft of those illusions and principles which they have cherished carefully for practical purposes but never believed in, bereft of all corporeal enjoyment, stricken to the very heart by having nothing left to hope for⁠—break through the barriers of reserve and say things they would never have believed themselves capable of saying.

Perhaps he did not believe in “goodness” and “badness” any more than his son; but as he would have said: He didn’t know⁠—couldn’t tell; there might be something in it; and why, by an unnecessary expression of disbelief, deprive yourself of possible advantage?