something for nothing. There was that old American I met down at
Marvis Bay last year--'

'You threw away a wonderful chance of making all sorts of money.
Why, a single tip from Mr Breitstein would have made your
fortune.'

'But, Claire, you know, there are some things--what I mean is, if
they like me at Brown's, it's awfully decent of them and all that,
but I couldn't take advantage of it to plant a fellow like
Breitstein on them. It wouldn't be playing the game.'

'Oh, nonsense!'

Lord Dawlish looked unhappy, but said nothing. This matter of Mr
Breitstein had been touched upon by Claire in previous conversations,
and it was a subject for which he had little liking. Experience had
taught him that none of the arguments which seemed so conclusive
to him--to wit, that the financier had on two occasions only just
escaped imprisonment for fraud, and, what was worse, made a
noise when he drank soup, like water running out of a bathtub--had
the least effect upon her. The only thing to do when Mr Breitstein
came up in the course of chitchat over the festive board was to
stay quiet until he blew over.

'That old American you met at Marvis Bay,' said Claire, her memory
flitting back to the remark which she had interrupted; 'well,
there's another case. You could easily have got him to do
something for you.'