"Somebody he had been drinking with, I suppose," said Margaret, who had heard of Mr. Bean.
"Right you are. They supported each other into the office, and before Bean sank into his chair I was introduced by him as his 'jun'or par'ner.'"
"Could not Mr. Bean do the same every day? Supply the office by bringing up his friends when prepared to be lavish with money?"
"I'm afraid not. Bean would be always tipsy himself before the victim was ready. Still, your idea is worth consideration. Of course nobody would want law from Bean unless he were pretty far gone, and in this case the poor old chap knew no more about what was wanted than the inquirer."
"Had the client any money?" asked Geoffrey.
"Money? He was reeking with it. What he wanted, he said, was a quiet lawyer. I told him that the quietness of our business was its strong point, only equaled, in fact, by the unpleasant grave. Then it appeared that he had come on a trip from the States with a carpet-bag full of money which he said he had borrowed, and he wished, in effect, to know whether the United States could take him back again, vi et armis. I told him 'No,' and knocked ten dollars out of him before you could say 'knife.'"
"You might have made it fifty while you were about it," said Geoffrey.
"Well, you see, the man was not entirely sober, and, after all, ten dollars a word is fair average pay. I never charge more than that."
"You mean that the unfortunate was too sober to be likely to pay any more," said Margaret.
Maurice shrugged his shoulders in deprecation of this idea.