“Surely her ladyship has not forgotten,” he said. “She must often have occasion to communicate with him.”
“Yes, but it is I who want to communicate with Mr. Large,” responded his client; “and Lady Gwendolyn is not with me.”
“Oh, I see!” replied Mr. Browne, quite satisfied. “I do not remember Mr. Large’s address at this moment, but I will look through my books, and tell you directly. I hope her ladyship is quite well?” he concluded, as he began to turn over the leaves of a small manuscript book, stopping when he came to the letter “L,” which headed one of the pages.
“Pretty well, thank you,” replied Sir Lawrence hesitatingly; but Mr. Browne did not hear.
“Here it is!” he said at last; “Throgmorton Street, Danesbury Square, number ten.”
Sir Lawrence rose at once, thanked him politely, and hurried off. He had to wait half an hour at the office before Mr. Large arrived, and was beginning to get very impatient, when that gentleman suddenly appeared before him.
“I must apologize for keeping you waiting,” he said, with a courteous bow; “but I had to see a client at his own house this morning, and have not even had time to breakfast yet. Can I be of any use to you, Sir Lawrence?”
“You certainly can, Mr. Large. I suppose we shall be private here?”
“Quite so. My clerks would not disturb me themselves, or allow any one else to disturb me when I am busy.”
“And they cannot overhear what we say?”