Beatrice slipped the engagement
ring from her finger and gave it to her father with a sigh.
"You can't do wrong without paying for it, Dad."
"That's right. Bromfield--"
"I'm not thinking of Clarendon. I'm thinking about me. I feel as if I
had been dragged in the dust," she said wearily.
CHAPTER XXXVII
ON THE CARPET
The question at issue was not whether Beatrice would break with her
fiance, but in what way it should be done. If her father found him
guilty of what Durand had said, he was to dismiss him brusquely; if
not, Beatrice wanted to disengage herself gently and with contrition.
Whitford summoned Bromfield to his office where the personal equation
would be less pronounced. He put to him plainly the charge made by
Jerry and demanded an answer.
The younger man was between the devil and the deep sea. He would have
lied cheerfully if that would have availed. But a denial of the truth
of Durand's allegations would be a challenge for him to prove his
story. He would take it to the papers and spread it broadcast. From
that hour Clarendon Bromfield would be an outcast in the city. Society
would repudiate him. His clubs would cast him out. All the prestige
that he had built up by a lifetime of effort would be swept away.
No lie could save him. The only thing he could do was to sugarcoat the
truth. He set about making out a case for himself as skillfully as he
could.
"I'm a man of the world, Mr. Whitford," he explained.
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