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were in danger of trampling underfoot the accepted rules of decorum and procedure. And the week before the judge had buried his youngest daughter. When Northcote's gaunt eyes were turned upon this old man, who was trembling violently under his ermine, the tears began to course down his face.
"My God, he's settled Bow-wow," said the fat barrister on the back bench.
"Always was a senile old fool at bottom," said his companion. "That young bounder ought to lose his wig and gown."
"Shut up! He's speaking again."
