“I am, but you have the better of me—”
“Only for the moment. You are a lawyer. You will take care of that. I understand the firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett have somewhat leisurely methods?”
“Is the firm on trial?” inquired Mr. Jones, sharply.
“In a sense, yes. I also understand that although all the Barretts, and also Mr. Deacon, share in the name plate, Mr. Jones does the work?”
The lawyer laid down his papers. “Who the dickens are you, anyway, and what do you want?”
“That’s better. With undivided attention we shall get there much quicker. I have a certain amount of legal business which requires attention, and in connection with which I am willing to pay what the service is worth. But I’m not going to pay two generations of Barretts which are out of the city, and a third which doesn’t come down in the forenoon. If I have to buy name plates, I’ll buy name plates of my own, and that is what I’ve decided to do. Do you mind saying how much this job here is worth?”
“Of course I do, sir. I don’t understand you at all—”
“Then I’ll make myself understood. I am Dennison Grant. By force of circumstances I find myself—”
The lawyer had risen from his chair. “Oh, Mr. Dennison Grant! I’m so glad—”
Grant ignored the outstretched hand. “I’m exactly the same man who came into your office five minutes ago, and you were too busy to raise your eyes from your papers. It is not me to whom you are now offering courtesy; it’s to my money.”