It had easy chairs and cigar boxes.
Moreover, the sun got into it, and there was a view of the comic yet
stately Victorian Gothic of the Law Courts. The sun enheartened Edward
Henry. And he felt secure in an unimpugnable suit of clothes; in
the shape of his collar, the colour of his necktie, the style of his
creaseless boots; and in the protuberance of his pocket-book in his
pocket.
As Mr. Slosson had failed to notice the competition of his drumming,
he drummed still louder. Whereupon Mr. Slosson stopped drumming.
Edward Henry gazed amiably around. Right at the back of the
room--before a back-window that gave on the whitewashed wall--a man
was rapidly putting his signature to a number of papers. But Mr.
Slosson had ignored the existence of this man, treating him apparently
as a figment of the disordered brain or as an optical illusion.
"I've nothing to say," said Mr. Slosson.
"Or to do?"
"Or to do."
"Well, Mr. Slosson," said Edward Henry, "your junior partner has
already outlined your policy of masterly inactivity. So I may as well
go. I did say I'd go to my solicitors. But it's occurred to me that as
I'm a principal I may as well first of all see the principals on the
other side. I only came here because it mentions in the option that
the matter is to be completed here--that's all."
"You a principal!" exclaimed Mr.
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