"I know he is."
"You mean that," his client decided slowly, "and you've got the Judge's authority for it, too."
"Take it quietly. It's the best way," urged the junior partner helpfully.
"I understand that's your motto, Theodore," said his client, and proceeded to take his advice, sitting quite still in the Judge's big chair, and fixing a clear-seeing but unappreciative gaze upon the immaculate folds of Mr. Burr's turquoise-blue tie. He took the advice too literally. The silence grew oppressive and sinister, and as if he found it so, Mr. Burr broke into a monologue, disjointed, but made up of irreproachable sentiments.
"This is hard on your uncle, Neil, and it's hard on you, but it may be the best thing in the end. He's been hiding behind you too long. A business that can't stand on its own feet deserves to fail. He can start new and start clean. The Judge has been a good friend to you——"
"Don't explain him to me. You don't own him, whoever else does," interrupted the Judge's protégé softly.
"What do you mean? If you don't think you're getting a square deal, say so."
"Do you want me to weep on your shoulder, Theodore?"
"The Judge is your friend, and," Mr. Burr added handsomely, "I'm your friend, too."
His client arose briskly, as if encouraged by this. "Theodore, you don't want to tell me what's back of your turning me down?" he asked. "No, I thought not. Well——"