"And neither is it the custom for anyone to have any self-respect. Does Galloway need my brains more than I need his money, or do I need his money more than he needs my brains? You know what the answer to that is, Billy. We are partners—you and I. I'm training you for the position."
"Galloway won't come," said Tetlow curtly.
"So much the worse for him," retorted Norman placidly. "No—I've not been drinking too much, old man—as your worried—old-maid look suggests. Do a little thinking. If Galloway doesn't get me, whom will he get?"
"You know very well, Norman, there are scores of lawyers, good ones, who'd crawl at his feet for his business. Nowadays, most lawyers are always looking round for a pair of rich man's boots to lick."
"But I am not 'most lawyers,'" said Norman. "Of course, if Galloway could make me come to him, he'd be a fool to come to me. But when he finds I'm not coming, why, he'll behave himself—if his business is important enough for me to bother with."
"But if he doesn't come, Fred?"
"Then—my Universal Fuel scheme, or some other equally good. But you will never see me limbering my knees in the anteroom of a rich man, when he needs me and I don't need him."
"Well, we'll see," said Tetlow, with the air of a sober man patient with one who is not sober.
"By the way," continued Norman, "if Galloway says he's too ill to come—or anything of that sort—tell him I'd not care to undertake the affairs of a man too old or too feeble to attend to business, as he might die in the midst of it."
Tetlow's face was such a wondrous exhibit of discomfiture that Norman laughed outright. Evidently he had forestalled his fat friend in a scheme to get him to Galloway in spite of himself. "All right—all right," said Tetlow fretfully. "We'll sleep on this. But I don't see why you're so opposed to going to see the man. It looks like snobbishness to me—false pride—silly false pride."