"Perhaps you'd better talk it over with your wife."
"It's not necessary. She—she's with me in this."
"We need lawyers, but we can't pay what the meanest scrub can't better in a very few years. What have you been getting?"
"Fifty a week."
"About ten beyond our possible limit—with expenses when you travel—but not fancy ones. You can take outside cases on the side—if you get them once you're known as one of us. That will have nothing to do with us."
"I don't want any 'cases on the side,' not for the present anyhow."
Black Tom smiled. "When do you want to begin?"
"Now."
Black Tom hesitated. Roger felt his first resentment returning. He leaned forward.
"This thing doesn't belong to any group," he began. "We all happen to be at the same point at the same time. I know what I'm doing. I——"