He returned to the inner office.
“Well?” cried Billie.
“Eh? Oh, he’s gone,” said Sam. “I persuaded him to go away. He was a little excited, poor fellow. And now let us return to what we were talking about. You say....” He broke off with an exclamation, and glanced at his watch. “Good Heavens! I had no idea of the time. I promised to run up and see a man in one of the offices in the next court. He wants to consult me on some difficulty which has arisen with one of his clients. Rightly or wrongly he values my advice. Can you spare me for a short while? I shan’t be more than ten minutes.”
“Certainly.”
“Here is something you may care to look at while I’m gone. I don’t know if you have read it? Widgery on Nisi Prius Evidence. Most interesting.”
He went out. Jno. Peters looked up from his Home Whispers.
“You can go in now,” said Sam.
“Certainly, Mr. Samuel, certainly.”
Sam took up the copy of Home Whispers and sat down with his feet on the desk. He turned to the serial story and began to read the synopsis.
In the inner room Billie, who had rejected the mental refreshment offered by Widgery and was engaged on making a tour of the office, looking at the portraits of whiskered men whom she took correctly to be the Thorpes, Prescotts, Winslows, and Applebys mentioned on the contents-bill outside, was surprised to hear the door open at her back. She had not expected Sam to return so instantaneously.