that such permission may be denied . That's all. Send Junket."
The senior clerk reappeared.
"I told you to destroy that bell," said Sir Andrew. "Why the devil don't you do it?" Junket made a rush for the corner. "I'm leaving in five minutes. Produce it to me destroyed before I go."
"Very good, sir." Arrived at the door, the clerk hesitated. "There's— there's rather an urgent case, sir," he said uneasily, peering at a pile of papers upon his master's table. "A case to advise— from Mincing's. They've been pressing me now, sir, for over a week. An' another from— "
"D'you want to kill me?" demanded Sir Andrew. "This is the Long Vacation. If they don't want to wait, they can take their matters elsewhere. I won't do another stroke until to-morrow. Destroy that bell."
"Very good, sir."
The next moment Junket was in the clerks' room.
"'Ere, George," he said, handing the bell to his subordinate. "Take that out an' break it. Look sharp."
"'Break it'?" said George, staring at the battered instrument. "But it's broke already."
"Never mind about that," cried Junket, thrusting the bell into his hand. "'E wants it 'destroyed.' 'E's got to see it 'destroyed' before 'e goes. An' 'e's goin' in four minutes. For gauze sake, be quick. You know what 'e is." He turned to the shorthand writer, who was transcribing the 'opinion.' "Do the las' paragraph, Jim, 's quick as you can. So 's I can get 'im to sign it before 'e goes."
"But look 'ere," protested George, "I ain't a blecksmith. 'Ow can I—"
"Look 'ere," rejoined his senior, taking out his watch. "D'you want the bird? 'Cause, if 'e asks for that bell before it's ruined, you can 'ave it in one. Take the blighter out," he added fiercely, "an' keep on chuckin' it down on the flegstones till—"
A sudden bellow from Sir Andrew's room threw the three clerks into a panic.
George rushed out of the Chambers: Jim drove his pen like a madman; while the unfortunate Junket wiped his brow and, nervously adjusting his collar, prepared to answer the summons.
Beyond, however, that Sir Andrew observed darkly that the bell was due to be demolished in three minutes' time, Mr. Junket was merely ordered to send four 'cases to advise' to his master's private house.
The clerk withdrew relievedly.
George, meanwhile, was working feverishly.
After four violent collisions with the flags, the condition of the bell seemed rather improved than anything else, and, what was worse, upon being tested, it rang smartly.
George broke into a sweat.
Indeed, but for the sight of a dray standing in Middle Temple Lane, he would, I think, have retired at once from the Temple and the unequal contest...
Necessity knows no law.
A moment later the bell was in position beneath the off hind wheel, and George was backing the horses like an Artillery driver under fire....
Sir Andrew surveyed the fragments with grim satisfaction. Then he signed his 'opinion' and called for his hat....
As he stepped on to the Embankment, a ragged fellow passed him, with misery in his eyes.
The K.C. called him back. He came uncertainly.
"What's the matter with you?"
The wretched eyes avoided Sir Andrew's look.
"I'm— I'm 'ungry," faltered their owner, and turned away.
Sir Andrew counted ten shillings and put them into his hand.
"That's for food," he said shortly. "Not drink."
He turned to wave his stick at a passing cab....
A moment later he was being carried westward at an unlawful pace.
Here let me say that Lady Touchstone's courage was of a high order. Danger, for instance, merely sharpened her wits. I do not think that she knew any physical fear. Yet, as she frankly admitted, each visit she paid her dentist undoubtedly shortened her life. To point the paradox, her anticipation of the ordeal was always far worse than the encounter. Compared with that of the waiting-room, the atmosphere of the condemned hold seemed to her almost jovial. Indeed, she so much abhorred the former that she was always most careful to arrive late,
The senior clerk reappeared.
"I told you to destroy that bell," said Sir Andrew. "Why the devil don't you do it?" Junket made a rush for the corner. "I'm leaving in five minutes. Produce it to me destroyed before I go."
"Very good, sir." Arrived at the door, the clerk hesitated. "There's— there's rather an urgent case, sir," he said uneasily, peering at a pile of papers upon his master's table. "A case to advise— from Mincing's. They've been pressing me now, sir, for over a week. An' another from— "
"D'you want to kill me?" demanded Sir Andrew. "This is the Long Vacation. If they don't want to wait, they can take their matters elsewhere. I won't do another stroke until to-morrow. Destroy that bell."
"Very good, sir."
The next moment Junket was in the clerks' room.
"'Ere, George," he said, handing the bell to his subordinate. "Take that out an' break it. Look sharp."
"'Break it'?" said George, staring at the battered instrument. "But it's broke already."
"Never mind about that," cried Junket, thrusting the bell into his hand. "'E wants it 'destroyed.' 'E's got to see it 'destroyed' before 'e goes. An' 'e's goin' in four minutes. For gauze sake, be quick. You know what 'e is." He turned to the shorthand writer, who was transcribing the 'opinion.' "Do the las' paragraph, Jim, 's quick as you can. So 's I can get 'im to sign it before 'e goes."
"But look 'ere," protested George, "I ain't a blecksmith. 'Ow can I—"
"Look 'ere," rejoined his senior, taking out his watch. "D'you want the bird? 'Cause, if 'e asks for that bell before it's ruined, you can 'ave it in one. Take the blighter out," he added fiercely, "an' keep on chuckin' it down on the flegstones till—"
A sudden bellow from Sir Andrew's room threw the three clerks into a panic.
George rushed out of the Chambers: Jim drove his pen like a madman; while the unfortunate Junket wiped his brow and, nervously adjusting his collar, prepared to answer the summons.
Beyond, however, that Sir Andrew observed darkly that the bell was due to be demolished in three minutes' time, Mr. Junket was merely ordered to send four 'cases to advise' to his master's private house.
The clerk withdrew relievedly.
George, meanwhile, was working feverishly.
After four violent collisions with the flags, the condition of the bell seemed rather improved than anything else, and, what was worse, upon being tested, it rang smartly.
George broke into a sweat.
Indeed, but for the sight of a dray standing in Middle Temple Lane, he would, I think, have retired at once from the Temple and the unequal contest...
Necessity knows no law.
A moment later the bell was in position beneath the off hind wheel, and George was backing the horses like an Artillery driver under fire....
Sir Andrew surveyed the fragments with grim satisfaction. Then he signed his 'opinion' and called for his hat....
As he stepped on to the Embankment, a ragged fellow passed him, with misery in his eyes.
The K.C. called him back. He came uncertainly.
"What's the matter with you?"
The wretched eyes avoided Sir Andrew's look.
"I'm— I'm 'ungry," faltered their owner, and turned away.
Sir Andrew counted ten shillings and put them into his hand.
"That's for food," he said shortly. "Not drink."
He turned to wave his stick at a passing cab....
A moment later he was being carried westward at an unlawful pace.
Here let me say that Lady Touchstone's courage was of a high order. Danger, for instance, merely sharpened her wits. I do not think that she knew any physical fear. Yet, as she frankly admitted, each visit she paid her dentist undoubtedly shortened her life. To point the paradox, her anticipation of the ordeal was always far worse than the encounter. Compared with that of the waiting-room, the atmosphere of the condemned hold seemed to her almost jovial. Indeed, she so much abhorred the former that she was always most careful to arrive late,
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