Trust is to love what--'
She paused again. She could not remember just what Luella Delia
Philpotts had said trust was to love. It was something extremely
neat, but it had slipped her memory.
'A woman has the right to expect the man she is about to marry to
regard their troth as a sacred obligation that shall keep him as
pure as a young knight who has dedicated himself to the quest of
the Holy Grail. And I find you in a public restaurant, dancing
with a creature with yellow hair, upsetting waiters, and
staggering about with pats of butter all over you.'
Here a sense of injustice stung Lord Dawlish. It was true that
after his regrettable collision with Heinrich, the waiter, he had
discovered butter upon his person, but it was only one pat. Claire
had spoken as if he had been festooned with butter.
'I am not angry with you, only disappointed. What has happened has
shown me that you do not really love me, not as I think of love.
Oh, I know that when we are together you think you do, but absence
is the test. Absence is the acid-test of love that separates the
base metal from the true. After what has happened, we can't go on
with our engagement. It would be farcical. I could never feel that
way toward you again. We shall always be friends, I hope. But as
for love--love is not a machine.
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