This morning I quite
intended to have gone and seen Cuthbertson; but I was taken ill, you
know. What is the time? I wonder whether Cuthbertson is likely to be
at his office still?"
"That's your lawyer, isn't it? Would you like me to go and try to
get hold of him? I might bring him here."
"You are very kind, Gammon. For some reason I feel that I really
ought to see him to-day. Suppose we go together?"
"But you oughtn't to be out at night, ought you?"
"Oh, I feel much better. Besides, we shall drive, you know--quite
comfortable. I really think we will go. Then you shall come back and
dine with me. Yes, I think we will go."
Between this decision and the actual step half an hour was wasted in
doubts, fresh resolves, moments of forgetfulness, and slow
preparation. A messenger had been dispatched for a cab, and at
length almost by force Gammon succeeded in getting his lordship down
the stairs and out into the street. They drove to Old Jewry
Chambers. Throughout the journey Lord Polperro kept up a constant
babbling, which he meant for impressive talk; much of it was
inaudible to his companion, from the noise of the cab, and the
sentences that could be distinguished were mere repetitions of what
he had said before leaving home--that he felt it absolutely
necessary to see Cuthbertson, and that he could not understand
Greenacre's silence.
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