“You were?” There was just a shade of pique in the tone. “He must be a regular fount of wisdom. You’re always quoting him.”
“He is,” tranquilly. “By the way, with your permission, he’s going to call with me to-morrow night.”
“With my permission!” The girl laughed. “You’ve solicited, and received, that several times before—and without result. I’m almost beginning to doubt the gentleman’s existence.”
“You won’t much longer. I invited him and he accepted. He always does what he says he’ll do.” 43
“Very well,” the voice was non-committal. “I’m always glad to meet any of your friends.”
Armstrong warmed, as he always did when speaking of Darley Roberts.
“You will be when you know him, I’m sure. That’s why I asked him to come. He’s an odd chap and slow to thaw, but there isn’t another lawyer in town, not even in the department, who’s got his brains.”
“They couldn’t have, very well, could they?” evenly.
“I’ll admit that was a trifle involved; but you know what I mean. He’s what in an undergraduate they call a grind. The kind biographers describe as ‘hewing forever to the line.’ If we live and retain reasonably good health we’ll hear of him some day.”
“And I repeat,” smilingly, “I’ve heard of him a great deal already.”