'Ha! How do you do?' exclaimed Snowdon, with embarrassment, and in
an undertone. 'I wasn't expecting--'
The recognition was mutual, and whilst Joseph, though disconcerted,
expressed his feelings in a familiar smile, the other cast a quick
glance of uneasiness towards the stairs, his mouth compressed, his
eyebrows twitching a little.
'Business with Mr. Percival?' he inquired confidentially, but
without Joseph's familiar accentuation.
'Yes. That is--Is he here?'
'Won't be for another hour. Anything I could see about for you?'
Joseph moved in uncertainty, debating with himself. Their eyes met
again.
'Well, we might have a word or two about it,' he said. 'Better meet
somewhere else, perhaps?'
'Could you be at the top of Chancery Lane at six o'clock?'
With a look of mutual understanding, they parted. Joseph went home,
and explained that, to his surprise, he had found an old
acquaintance at the lawyer's office, a man named Scawthorne, whom
lie was going to see in private before having an interview with the
lawyer himself. At six o'clock the appointed meeting took place, and
from Chancery Lane the pair walked to a quiet house of refreshment
in the vicinity of Lincoln's Inn Fields.
Pages:
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316