He left her at about two, and went to Mr Toogood’s office in Bedford Row.  He found his uncle, and the two went out to lunch together in Holborn.  Between them there was no word said about Lily Dale, and John was glad to have some other subject in his mind for half an hour.  Toogood was full of his triumph about Mr Crawley and of his successes in Barsetshire.  He gave John a long account of his visit to Plumstead, and expressed his opinion that if all clergymen were like the archdeacon there would not be much room for Dissenters.  ’I’ve seen a good many parsons in my time,’ said Toogood; ’but I don’t think I ever saw such a one as him.  You know he is a clergyman somehow, and he never lets you forget it; but that’s about all.  Most of ’em are never contented without choking you with their white cravats all the time you’re with ’em.  As for Crawley himself,’ Mr Toogood continued, ’he’s not like anybody that ever was born, saint or sinner, parson or layman.  I never heard of such a man in all my experience.  Though he knew where he got the cheque as well I know it now, he wouldn’t say so, because the dean had said it wasn’t so.  Somebody ought to write a book about it—­indeed they ought.’  Then he told the whole story of Dan Stringer, and how he had found Dan out, looking at the tope of Dan’s hat through the little aperture in the wall of the inn parlour.  ’When I saw the twitch in his hand, John, I knew he had handled the cheque himself.  I don’t mean to say that I’m sharper than another man, and I don’t think so; but I do mean to say that when you are in any difficulty of that sort, you ought to go to a lawyer.  It’s his business, and a man does what is his business with patience and perseverance.  It’s a pity, though, that the scoundrel should get off.’  Then Eames gave his uncle an account of his Italian trip, to and fro, and was congratulated also upon his success.  John’s great triumph lay in the fact that he had been only two nights in bed, and that he would not have so far condescended on those occasions but for the feminine weakness of his fellow-traveller.  ’We shan’t forget it all in a hurry—­shall we, John?’ said Mr Toogood, in a pleasant voice, as they parted at the door of the luncheon-house in Holborn.  Toogood was returning to his office, and John Eames was to prepare himself for his last attempt.

He went back to his lodgings, intending at first to change his dress to make himself smarter for the work before him—­but after standing for a moment or two leaning on the chest of drawers in his bedroom, he gave up this idea.  ‘After all that’s come and gone,’ he said to himself, ’if I cannot win her as I am now, I cannot win her at all.’  And then he swore to himself a solemn oath, resolving that he would repeat the purport of it to Lily herself—­that this should be the last attempt.  ’What’s the use of it?  Everybody ridicules me.  And I am ridiculous.  I am an ass.  It’s all very well wanting to be the prime minister; but if you can’t be