'Algie called me up on the phone this evening, Claire.'
'Yes?'
Claire was examining Mr Pickering with furtive side glances. He
was not handsome, nor, on the other hand, was he repulsive.
'Undistinguished' was the adjective that would have described him.
He was inclined to stoutness, but not unpardonably so; his hair
was thin, but he was not aggressively bald; his face was dull, but
certainly not stupid. There was nothing in his outer man which his
millions would not offset. As regarded his other qualities, his
conversation was certainly not exhilarating. But that also was
not, under certain conditions, an unforgivable thing. No, looking
at the matter all round and weighing it with care, the real
obstacle, Claire decided, was not any quality or lack of qualities
in Dudley Pickering--it was Lord Dawlish and the simple fact that
it would be extremely difficult, if she discarded him in favour of a
richer man without any ostensible cause, to retain her self-respect.
'I think he's weakening.'
'Yes?'
Yes, that was the crux of the matter. She wanted to retain her
good opinion of herself. And in order to achieve that end it was
essential that she find some excuse, however trivial, for breaking
off the engagement.
'Yes?'
A waiter approached the table.
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