I am frightened to death of this young fellow. He's deep."
"I tell you what it is, my boy," said Mr. Weekes tartly, "you stayed up an hour longer than you ought to have done at the Betterton last night, waiting for four aces which never turned up."
At an adjoining table the barrister of elephantine proportions, who had expressed his determination "to stand the fellow a bottle," was entertaining a select coterie of his learned friends. In his inn he was justly celebrated as a trencherman among a society which had always been famous for its prowess at the board. He rejoiced in the name of "Jumbo;" and, although his practice was small, only his adipose tissue imposed the bounds to his good nature. In every way he was designed by nature to be one of her most popular efforts.
"Who's Northcote?" was a question that was circulating freely. None seemed to know.
"Never heard of him. Never seen his name."
"Well known in the police-courts, I believe."
"It's time he gave them up. His talents call him elsewhere."
"It was rather poor form, I must say, trying to score off Bow-wow."
"It is a mistake a young man is likely to make."
"Speaking for myself, I thought Bow-wow was asking for it. It is the time-honored story of the old-established firm of the bench and the Treasury. Once a Treasury counsel always a Treasury counsel."
"Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy."
"He was altogether wrong with the police."
