Galloway laughed. "I had heard that they were for doing unlawful things."
"Nothing is unlawful," said Norman, "except in method."
"That's an interesting view of courts of justice."
"But we have no courts of justice. We have only courts of law."
Galloway threw back his head and laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks. "What a gift for clear statement!" he cried.
Norman beamed appreciation of a compliment so flattering. But he went back to business. "As I was saying, you can do what you want to do. You wish me to show you how. In our modern way of doing things, the relation of lawyer and client has somewhat changed. To illustrate by this case, you are the bear with the taste for honey and the strength to rob the bees. I am the honey bird—that is, the modern lawyer—who can show you the way to the hive. Most of the honey birds—as yet—are content with a very small share of the honey—whatever the bear happens to be unable to find room for. But I—" Norman's eyes danced and his strong mouth curved in a charming smile—"I am a honey bird with a bear appetite."
Galloway was sitting up stiffly. "I don't quite follow you, sir," he said.
"Yet I am plain enough. My ability at clear statement has not deserted me. If I show you the way through the tangled forest of the law to this hive you scent—I must be a partner in the honey."
Galloway rose. "Your conceptions of your profession—and of me, I may say—are not attractive. I have always been, and am willing and anxious to pay liberally—more liberally than anyone else—for legal advice. But my business, sir, is my own."
Norman rose, his expression one of apology and polite disappointment. "I see I misunderstood your purpose in coming to me," said he. "Let us take no more of each other's time."