The accession of somewhat strenuous solemnity to a manner which a minute ago had been grossly, carelessly genial, filled Northcote with a heavy mocking laughter.
"I don't like it at all; oughtn't to have been put," Mr. Whitcomb reaffirmed, with a curious admixture of nervousness and sternness.
"I wonder if I shall ever acquire the most valuable of all the arts," said the young man, with an arch smile; "the art of knowing where not to look."
"That art comprises the first law of success," said the solicitor sententiously.
"I omitted to append a rather important corollary to that extraordinary proposition of mine," said Northcote, with a mischievous air. "It is this: Is the advocate entitled to evoke what is non-existent in the eyes of his client, providing it has an existence in his own?"
"I hope to be spared anything further upon the subject," said the solicitor. "I don't aspire to be a casuist; I'm a common lawyer. But I feel I am entitled to say this: use this subtlety of yours on Friday to a full advantage, and you will have no cause to regret having done so."
"Yes, it's the voice of the genie, right enough," said the young man, in a hollow voice, as he toyed with an empty wine glass.
"And I feel I am also entitled to say," said the solicitor, with emphasis, "since your mind appears to be exercised by the question, that when an advocate accepts a brief, his whole duty is to his client."
"And in the case of this unfortunate woman,
