A light pink flush touched the bald forehead of the attorney.
"Whatever is right, sir, is safe; and that, I think, can hardly be wrong—I hope not—by which all parties are benefited," said the attorney.
"All parties be diddled—except our shelves. I'm thinking of my shelf—and Mr. Levi, here—and, of courshe, of you. Very much of you," he added, courteously.
Mr. Larkin acknowledged his care by a faint meek bow.
"They're swells," repeated Mr. Goldshed.
"He saysh they're swelsh," repeated Mr. Levi, whose grave look had something of the air of a bully in it, fixing his dark prominent eyes on Mr. Larkin, and turning his cheek that way a little, also. "There's a danger in handling a swell—in them matters specially."
"Suppose theresh a contempt?" said Mr. Goldshed, whose chair grew restive, and required management as he spoke.
"He saysh a contempt," repeated Mr. Levi, "or shomething worse," and he heightened the emphasis with an oath.
"I'll guarantee you for twopence, Mr. Levi; and pray consider me, and do not swear," urged Mr. Larkin.
"If you guarantee us, with a penalty," began Mr. Levi, who chose to take him literally.