"I'd like to go with you, when you visit Lawrence," said Lyon, quietly.
Howell considered a moment, and then nodded. Perhaps he thought that another influence might be more successful than his own in unlocking the confidence of his client.
Lawrence tossed aside the book which he had been reading, and rose to greet them with all of his old light-hearted self-possession.
"Delighted to see you! I've been reading Persian love-poems till my brains are whirling around like the song of a tipsy bulbul, so I am particularly in need of some intelligent conversation. Howell, you look as glum as though you were attorney for a wretched fellow who had no chance of escaping the gallows. I'm glad you have Lyon associated with you. I've more faith in his abilities than in yours." And he shot a dancing glance at Lyon which was not wholly mockery.
"My abilities are at least equal to the facts that have been given them to work up," said Howell, drily. "I came to ask you what you can tell me about Mrs. Broughton's visit to Waynscott."
Lawrence's eyes widened with surprise. "Mrs. Broughton! What in the name of wonder are you bringing her name in for?"
"She visited your office that day."
"Yes."
"What for?"
Lawrence shook his head. "It was a professional visit. I can't discuss the matter."