"Thank you," said the jurist. "That is my retainer. You have employed counsel."
"The best counsel in New York," added Dr. Alderson.
"The best counsel in New York," agreed the judge with unmoved solemnity; "in certain respects. Specializes in maritime and cardiac complications. You go out on deck and walk some air into Alderson's brain until I come back. He needs it. He doesn't know enough not to return a suit when his partner leads the nine."
"When one's partner is stupid enough to open a suit—" began the other; but the critic was gone. "So you've found out that Little Miss Grouch is Cecily Wayne, have you?" Alderson observed, turning to the Tyro.
"Whatever that may mean," assented the Tyro.
"It means a good deal. It means that she's Hurry-up Wayne's daughter for one thing."
"That also fails to ring any bell. You see, I've been so long out of the world. Besides, I don't want to be told about her. I'm under bonds."
"Very well. But the paterfamilias is a tough customer. I looked up some old records for him once, and was obliged to tell him a few plain facts in plainer English. He appeared to want me to give false expert testimony. To do him justice, he didn't resent my well-chosen remarks; only observed that he could doubtless hire other historians with different views."
"Was that about the Battery Place house?"
"Precisely. But how do you know—Oh, of course! You've got a sort of intangible interest in that, haven't you? Through your maternal grandmother."