“I rather like Angel Esquire’s definition,” he said with a wry smile. “It is a neat method of saving the face of the police, but I could wish that the ‘Borough Lot’ were out of the way.”
Later he had occasion to change his opinion.
A tap at the door preceded the entry of a sedate butler. The lawyer looked at the card on the tray, and hesitated; then, “Show him in,” he said.
Jimmy came into the room, and bowed slightly to the elder man, who rose at his entrance.
They waited in silence till the servant had closed the door behind him.
“To what am I indebted?” began the lawyer, and motioned his visitor to a seat.
“May I smoke?” asked Jimmy, and Mr. Spedding nodded.
“It is in the matter of Reale’s millions,” said Jimmy, and allowed his eyes to follow the cloud of smoke he blew.
“I thought it was understood that this was a subject which might only be discussed at my office and in business hours?” said the lawyer sharply, and Jimmy nodded again.
“You will confess, Mr. Spedding,” he said easily, “that the Reale will is sufficiently unconventional to justify any departure from established custom on the part of the fortunate or unfortunate legatees.”