"Indeed?" As it struck me that the exclamation savoured of surprise, I thought it advisable to repeat the statement with emphasis.
"Yes," I continued, "there are many of my brethren at the Bar, better known to the world than I am, who would be pleased to change places with me. Because my name does not appear very frequently in the newspapers you must not imagine that I am idle. On the contrary, my chamber practice is immense—distinctly immense."
"Really," he murmured, and then mentioned the names of two or three of my learned friends whose incomes were decidedly considerable, and asked me if I deemed my practice equal to theirs.
"You put me in rather a delicate position," I returned with a smile. "Of course, I do not know the exact amount of the takings of the gentlemen to whom you have referred, but personally, I should consider my own practice more lucrative than theirs."
"Well, I do know their receipts," said my interviewer, "so I can estimate yours. Thank you very much. And now is there any other source of income omitted? Have you houses or shops, or anything of that sort?"
"As a barrister, I am prevented from trading," I replied, again with hauteur. And then I continued: "I am afraid you take too deep an interest in the commercial side of my career. What you should wish to learn, as my introducer to the American public, is my opinion on matters of the day. Now, for instance, I believe——"
"Pardon me," interrupted my visitor, rather brusquely. "But you have told me all I desire to know."
I bowed, and then I asked in what publication I might expect to see the interview.
"See the interview!" exclaimed the caller. "What interview?"
"Why," I explained, rather angrily, "the interview between you and me. You are a journalist, are you not?"