Blankly James looked at John and John at James. This was very trying.
“Fifty pounds will go a good way in out-of-pocket fees,” suggested James, at length, rubbing his bald head with his handkerchief.
“Possibly,” answered John, pettishly; “but how about the remuneration of the plaintiff’s legal advisers? Can’t you”—addressing Eustace—“manage to get the money from someone?”
“Well,” said Eustace, “there’s Lady Holmhurst. Perhaps if I offered to share the spoil with her, if there was any.”
“Dear me, no,” said John; “that would be ‘maintenance.’”
“Certainly not,” chimed in James, holding up his hand in dismay. “Most clearly it would be ‘Champerty’; and did it come to the knowledge of the Court, nobody can say what might not happen.”
“Indeed,” answered Eustace, with a sigh, “I don’t quite know what you mean, but I seem to have said something very wrong. The odds on a handicap are child’s play to understand beside this law,” he added sadly.
“It is obvious, James,” said John, that, “putting aside other matters, this would prove, independent of pecuniary reward, a most interesting case for you to conduct.”
“That is so, John,” replied James; “but as you must be well aware, the etiquette of my profession will not allow me to conduct a case for nothing. Upon that point, above all others, etiquette rules us with a rod of iron. The stomach of the bar, collective and individual, is revolted and scandalised at the idea of one of its members doing anything for nothing.”
“Yes,” put in Eustace, “I have always understood they were regular nailers.”