"Two suggestions, I should have said."
"Fire away," cut in Leavesley.
"Well, my dear young lady, if my advice were asked I would first of all say 'dam the stream.'"
"Verneede!" cried Leavesley. "What are you saying?"
"Father's always damning it," replied Miss Lambert with a laugh, "but it doesn't seem to do much good."
"My other suggestion," said Verneede, taken aback at the supposed beaver-like attributes of Mr Lambert, "is this, go in your own person to the friend of my friend Leavesley. I mean the uncle of my friend. Go to Mr Hancock, go to him frankly, fearlessly, tell him the tale you have told us; tell it to him with your own lips, in your own manner, with your own charm; say to him 'You are killing my father—cease.' Speak to him in your own way, smile at him——"
"That's not a bad idea," said Miss Lambert, turning to Leavesley, who was seated mouth open, aghast at this lunatic proposition.
"That's a splendid idea, and I'll do it."
"Say to him 'Cease!'" continued Verneede, speaking in an inspired voice. "Say to him——"
"Oh, shut up!" cried Leavesley, shaken out of politeness. "Do you know what you're talking about? Hancock is Bevan's solicitor."