“Come over here for some big operation, I heard.”
“Ah! What is his name?”
“I did not catch it.”
“Ah!” Gastineau’s eyes contracted curiously. “He did not interest you?”
“Not particularly. Although he was probably the most interesting person there. But he was not near me; I had, when the ladies went, to endure the banal egoism of my fellow M.P.”
“The social tax levied by stupidity on intellect.” Gastineau roused himself again. “Ah, my dear Geoffrey, we must not be impatient with fools and bores. If every one were clever and interesting we should be lost in the crowd. Now; the Rullington case. Is the day fixed?”
“It is only five down the list,” Herriard answered, taking some memoranda from his pocket. “One case is a big one, but Dancer tells me there is a great possibility of its being settled. So Rullington may come on at any time.”
“You found my notes for your speech clear, eh?”
“Quite, thank you. I ought to do something there. I only wish I could do justice to your ideas.”
Gastineau seemed rather darkly preoccupied. “Oh, my dear fellow,” he replied, almost mechanically, “you’ll do me and yourself justice enough if only you make up your mind to it. Confidence, confidence is the nine points of pleading.”