"Epstein! Whew!—and in his day he was the greatest comedian of them all. And a Jew!"
"And a man," said Tommy Watson with a note of challenge in his voice.
"I've heard much of his kindnesses," Whimple said, "but know him only by sight."
"He's a great friend of mine," said Tommy; "he spends nearly all his mornings here; has done since he retired from the stage. He's getting feeble, but his mind is as clear as ever, and his heart—well, his heart has never grown old."
"William Adolphus Turnpike, Epstein, retired comedian, Tommy Watson, auctioneer," said Whimple softly, and then looking up he found Watson regarding him with a whimsical smile.
"Us three, and no more—Amen, as the Three Guardsmen used to say," Tommy said.
"Well, not exactly in those words," Whimple replied.
"But meaning the same," Tommy retorted, "so what's the difference? Believe me," he went on, "the boy is safe with us. If his ambition sticks—why, he'll land."
"You're a good sort, Tommy Watson," said Whimple warmly as he left the shop, "I wish I could do more to help the boy."
"You're doing lots," said Tommy genially, "lots, and—well, the legal world'll take off its hat to you yet."