“Certainly.”
“It’s not one of Doctor Jeddler’s daughters?” said Snitchey, suddenly squaring his elbows on his knees, and advancing his face at least a yard.
“Yes!” returned the client.
“Not his younger daughter?” said Snitchey.
“Yes!” returned the client.
“Mr. Craggs,” said Snitchey, much relieved, “will you oblige me with another pinch of snuff? Thank you. I am happy to say it don’t signify, Mr. Warden; she’s engaged, Sir, she’s bespoke. My partner can corroborate me. We know the fact.”
“We know the fact,” repeated Craggs.
“Why, so do I perhaps,” returned the client quietly. “What of that? Are you men of the world, and did you never hear of a woman changing her mind?”
“There certainly have been actions for breach,” said Mr. Snitchey, “brought against both spinsters and widows, but in the majority of cases—”
“Cases!” interposed the client, impatiently. “Don’t talk to me of cases. The general precedent is in a much larger volume than any of your law books. Besides, do you think I have lived six weeks in the Doctor’s house for nothing?”