“You are wrong, Miss Sharp-tongue. I hold the brief entirely on my own. It hasn’t even anything to do with any one in Waltham’s Chambers.”
And still Lorraine, with shining eyes, watched his face.
“I suppose,” said Hal, “the other side have got a very small man, and they wanted a big one to frighten him?”
“Wrong again. The other side has Pym, and he is quite six feet in height.”
“Then perhaps he looks clever, and they believe in contrasts.”
“I shall carry you down to the street yet,” threateningly; “you are running grave risks.”
“So is the poor man trusting his defence to you.”
“It happens to be a lady.”
Hal clapped in her hands.
“Of course,” she cried; “now we are getting at it. The lady chose you because she thought your wig and gown becoming. How many interviews shall you be having with her?”