In their Wisdom by C.P. Snow

Liz did not realise how often she repeated herself. She was obsessive, of course, in her love: but it came out too in habits on which she didn't spare a thought. So, when once more anxious and adrift after Julian's coup at the lawyers' conference, she was once more engrossed about her father's money: and once more she telephoned James Ryle.

It was the call he had awaited so long, telling himself it wouldn't happen, it oughtn't to happen. When he received it, he was happy. How foolish could a sensible man be, he thought. He could console himself, though it wasn't much of a support, that at least he had behaved like a sensible man. He had taken no initiative, and wouldn't have done. Yet, talking on the telephone, he was happy. Eagerly, more eagerly than he approved of, he invited her to dinner. The Connaught? It was a decent place for dinner, or used to be. Yes, she wanted to talk. Yes, he understood.