CHAPTER III.
_The Photograph_ From the moment of Mrs.Challice's remarks in favour of matrimonial agencies Priam Farll's existence became a torture to him.

She was what he had always been accustomed to think of as "a very decent woman"; but really...! The sentence is not finished because Priam never finished it in his own mind.

Fifty times he conducted the sentence as far as 'really,' and there it dissolved into an uncomfortable cloud.
"I suppose we shall have to be going," said she, when her ice had been eaten and his had melted.
"Yes," said he, and added to himself, "But where ?" However, it would be a relief to get out of the restaurant, and he called for the bill.
While they were waiting for the bill the situation grew more strained.
Priam was aware of a desire to fling down sovereigns on the table and rush wildly away.

Even Mrs.Challice, vaguely feeling this, had a difficulty in conversing.
"You _are_ like your photograph!" she remarked, glancing at his face which--it should be said--had very much changed within half-an-hour.

He had a face capable of a hundred expressions per day.