The solicitor rose abruptly from the table to dispel his reverie.
“Rather than you should feel you have ground for complaint,” said he abruptly, as if touched by compassion, “I shall ask you to allow me to advance half of your fee; and to-morrow I will send you some other sort of work.”
Mr. Whitcomb unrolled a note for ten pounds and gave it to Northcote.
“Now,” he said, “kindly return the brief and I will go.”
Northcote crumpled up the note and thrust it in his pocket.
“I accept half my fee,” said he, “not as a bribe, but as a retainer. By this means I pledge myself to conduct the case to its appointed issue.”
“Pray do not let us misunderstand one another,” said the solicitor, with a sense of being trapped. “This brief is withdrawn definitely; I ask you to return it to me. I give you ten pounds as a solatium for losing your fee.”
“I cannot construe the situation in that fashion,” said the young man calmly.
“This is not a question of construction,” said the solicitor, with his anger beginning to announce itself; “it is a question of hard fact. Your brief is withdrawn.”
“And I,” said Northcote, with expansive bluntness, “do not submit to its withdrawal.”