“‘Let me offer you a chair, Mr. Frere, sir. Delighted to have the honour of making your acquaintance. I speak for my partner and myself—eh, Mr. Levi?’
“‘In courshe, shir. Moosh playsure, Misthur Vreer, shir,’ muttered Levi, who spoke through his nose, after the manner of modern Israelites, as if that organ were afflicted with a permanent cold.
“When I had seated myself Jones returned to the attack by observing: ‘Our letter contained a certain definite and specific offer. Does Mr. Arundel agree to that, Mr. Frere, sir?’
“‘Mr. Arundel has placed the matter entirely in my hands, Mr. Jones,’ replied I; ‘and before I can agree to anything I must understand clearly what benefit my friend is likely to derive from the information hinted at in your letter.’
“‘May I inquire, Mr. Frere, sir, whether you are a professional man?’ asked Jones.
“‘If you mean a lawyer, Mr. Jones,’ replied I, ‘I am thankful to say I am not.’
“I suppose he did not exactly relish my remark, for he resumed, in a less amicable tone than he had used before—
“‘I believe the letter to which I have already referred contained a clear statement of the only’ (he emphasised the word strongly) ‘terms upon which we should be disposed to communicate the information,’ and he glanced towards his partner, who echoed—
“‘De only turmsh.”
“‘Then, gentlemen,’ said I (gentlemen, indeed!), ‘I beg most distinctly to inform you that my friend shall never, with my consent, pay £10 down and become liable for £200 more, this liability depending on a contingency which you have no doubt provided against, on the mere chance that some information in your possession may refer to the exciting cause of his father’s death and prove valuable to him.’