“I’m not going to say any more,” said Viscount Pembury. “I’m sorry to be so graceless. I know you’re trying to help me and I’m carefully crampin’ your style. But there you are. Please do what you can with what you’ve got.”
There was a long silence.
“He mayn’t . . . mayn’t be content with a fine, you know,” said Forsyth.
“I know. It can’t be helped.”
Counsel folded his Brief and rose to his feet.
The conference was at an end.
As the door closed behind Pembury—
“Who the devil is he shielding?” said Quaritch.
“I wish to God I knew,” said Forsyth bitterly.