The lawyer did not speak for a moment, and when he did his voice was trembling.
"God bless you, my dear boy," he said gently.
Morris devoted himself for some little time to the guiding of the car.
"And I want you also to leave it all alone," he said after a while. "I don't want you to dissolve your partnership with him, or whatever you call it. I suppose he will guess that you know all about it, so perhaps it would be best if you told him straight out that you do. And then you can, well, make a few well-chosen remarks you know, and drop the whole damned subject forever."
Mr. Taynton seemed much moved.
"I will try," he said, "since you ask it. But Morris, you are more generous than I am."
Morris laughed, his usual boyish high spirits and simplicity were reasserting themselves again.
"Oh, that's all rot," he said. "It's only because it's so fearfully tiring to go on being angry. But I can't help wondering what has happened to the fellow. They told me at his flat in town that he went off with his luggage yesterday afternoon, and gave orders that all letters were to be sent to his Brighton address. You don't think there's anything wrong, do you?"
"My dear fellow, what could be wrong?" asked Mr. Taynton. "He had some business to do at Lewes on his way down, and I make no doubt he slept there, probably forgetting all about his appointment with me. I would wager you that we shall find he is in Brighton when we get in."
"I'll take that," said Morris. "Half a crown."