"Ah!" said Mr Verneede, with the air of a physician at a consultation. He was in his element, he saw a prospect of unburthening himself of some of his superfluous advice.
"It's this Action," resumed Fanny, as if she were speaking of a tumour or carbuncle, "that makes him so bad; I'm getting quite frightened about him."
"Was that the action he spoke to me about?" asked Leavesley.
"Which?" asked Fanny.
"The one against a bookseller?"
"Oh no, I think that's settled; it's the one against our cousin, Mr Bevan."
"Ah!"
"It's about the right-of-way—I mean the right of fishing in a stream down in Buckinghamshire. They've spent ever so much money over it, it's worrying father to death, but he won't give it up. I thought perhaps if you spoke to him you might have some influence with him."
"I'd be delighted to do anything," said Leavesley. "What is this man Bevan like?"