"If Roger keeps on at his present gait he'll make a neat little hole even in the Wynrod pile."
Baker lighted a fresh cigar. "Yes?" His tone was noncommittal.
"Got any for himself, d'ye think—or does Judith hold the bag?" Such imprudent garrulity was not characteristic of Faxon, but more whisky than was good for him had dulled discretion and loosened his tongue.
"It's hard to say." Baker leaned back and blew smoke rings toward the ceiling. He was an extraordinarily taciturn man, even for a lawyer.
"The old man had a lot of confidence in her." Faxon gave the impression of soliloquy. "Shouldn't wonder if she kept the kid on an allowance. He's strapped pretty tight sometimes. Queer girl, Judith."
"Think so?"
"Yes. Sometimes I don't just know how to take her."
"So?"
"Charming, fine character and all that—but difficult. Don't you think so?"
"Um—well...."