matter-of-fact of the advocate had a little discomposed him.
"I was half-expecting a genie," said the advocate.
"A genie!" said the solicitor, with a laugh of embarrassment, for his surroundings oppressed him, and his vitality was impaired by not having yet had his dinner. "I never heard of a genie except in the 'Arabian Nights.'"
"They abound in London," said the advocate. "They are all about us."
"You are right, I dare say," said the solicitor, with a puzzled air. "The latest discovery of science, is it? They have found such marvellous things lately, even in the water we drink and the air we breathe. But if you will just stick on your hat, and do me the honor of eating a bite of supper,—I have had a deplorable day, which has ended by robbing me of my dinner,—I will talk to you of the business that has brought me here at such an odd sort of hour."
"A bite of supper!" These magic words caused the advocate to enfold his visitor in a melancholy smile.
"Upon my soul," said he, "you are the genie."
The solicitor gave a laugh as ponderous as Gargantua's.
"Have it your own way," he said; "but for the love of heaven put on your hat and let us heed the intimations of Nature. Perhaps if we pet her a little she may do us well in this somewhat remarkable affair. Come, let us away."
That robustness of bearing which made half the stock in trade of the first criminal lawyer in London
