"Surely I haven't to tell you all over again! Weren't you listening? You're a man of business, are you not? Surely you ought to have a clear head the first thing in the morning."
"Just tell me again in a word or two. What can I do for you? Do you want to see anybody?"
"Yes, yes, I remember." He laid a hand on his companion's shoulder. "The matter stands thus, Greenacre I trust you implicitly, once more I assure you of that; but it is absolutely necessary for me to see a solicitor."
"All right. What's his name?"
"I'll tell you, Cuthbertson—Old Jewry Chambers. But first of all let us come to an understanding about that man Quodling. I called upon his brother—why, I told you all that before, didn't I?"
"You had just been there when I met you in Norton Folgate," said Gammon, who felt that before long his own wits would begin to wander.
"To be sure. And now we really must be going."
He stood up staggering, gained his balance, and walked to the window. The prospect thence seemed to recall him to a consciousness of the actual present, and he looked round appealingly, distressfully.
"I tell you what it is," said Gammon. "You ought to get into bed and have a doctor. Shall I help you?"
"No, no; I regret that I came here, Greenacre. I am not welcome; how could I expect to be? If I am going to be ill it mustn't be here."