“Come with me, my boy,” he exclaimed; “it’s a great case. And if only my learned leader would absent himself, I’d give them a taste of my quality.”
I had nothing better to do, and consented.
“Take me too,” said Miss Topsy, with an admirable affectation of piteous imploring. It was bad enough for Topsy to visit at his chambers, but he was not likely to run the risk of flaunting her gay presence in the temple of justice herself. He put her off with a kind word, adding:
“But you’ll be here when we return; we’ll all go to dinner at Verrey’s, have a box at the theatre, and enjoy ourselves amazingly, eh? And you’ll come with us, old fellow, won’t you?”
Again I consented. We took leave of the fair young creature, and when we got to the bottom of the court, heard strains of “The Blue Alsatian Mountains” trilling over the flower-boxes on the window-sill.
“Capital girl that,” said Teddy, pressing my arm; “good as gold—all heart, and that sort of thing.”
“Of course,” I answered. The expression of one’s real sentiments under such circumstances is not only extremely ill-bred, but it will most assuredly serve to fan the flame in your friend’s heart, and gain for yourself his everlasting distrust. So I said “Of course,” and we tramped through Fleet Street, up Ludgate Hill, and turned into the Old Bailey, closely followed by Teddy’s little clerk bearing Teddy’s blue bag, with his initials beautifully worked in white silk on the outside.
The case in which Teddy was concerned lasted all day. But besides opening it in a somewhat abashed and hesitating way, and thereafter cross-examining an utterly unimportant witness, I could not see that Teddy had much more to do with the case than myself, who had been accommodated with a seat in the row of benches apportioned to the bar, situated just behind my friend. All the real work was performed by Mr. Rowland, Q.C., who prosecuted for the Treasury; and to his skill, resource, and mastery of details, it appeared to me, the conviction of the prisoner was entirely attributable. I merely mention this because I subsequently heard Teddy take to himself all the credit of having secured the verdict on that memorable occasion.
After the unfortunate man in the dock had been sentenced and removed to the seclusion of his cell, Teddy packed up his papers, stuffed them into his bag, and leaving that receptacle to be removed by his clerk, accompanied me back to Lime Court. The piano was still going, and the voice of the siren gave forth the brisk chorus of a bouffe drinking-song.
Topsy Varden must have visited her home with her mother in Camden Town during our absence in Court, for she had abandoned the white breakfast gown of the morning, and was arrayed in a costly dinner dress, so arranged as to exhibit a great amount of her arms and chest. As Teddy saluted her it was evident that his admiration was sincere. Her reciprocal expression was that of an actress—hollow, insincere, worthless.