"Yes, sir."
"Braham? Braham?" said the lawyer, affecting to search the caverns of professional memory.
"Stock-broker's wife."
"Where do they live?"
"What! don't you know? Place of business—Threadneedle Street. Place of bigamy—Portman Square."
"I have no authority to grant a personal interview with any such person."
"But you have no power to hinder one, and it is her interest the meeting should take place here, and the stock-broker be out of it."
The lawyer reflected.
"Will you promise me it shall be a friendly interview? You will never go to her husband?"
"Her stock-broker, you mean. Not I. If she comes to me here when I want her."