The young advocate, in the meantime, buttoned the brief in the breast-pocket of his somewhat threadbare black coat.
"What is your decision?" said the solicitor, regarding the young man with an insolent coolness.
"You can't have back your brief," said Northcote. "You gave it to me."
"It can only be held conditionally," said Mr. Whitcomb, "and the conditions are perfectly easy to accept."
"The brief was delivered unconditionally into my keeping," said Northcote, in an arid voice. "And," he added, with a sudden gleam of the eyes as an overpowering recollection of his destiny came back to him, "you will have no reason to regret your act."
Before the solicitor had framed a reply the waiter had returned with the receipted bill.
"Keep the change," said the solicitor, "and call a hansom."
The waiter withdrew.
"Do I take it," said the solicitor, with an incisive drawl in his speech as he turned to Northcote, "that you have said no?"
"I have said no in the first place to your restrictions," said Northcote, looking him full in the eyes, "and in the second to your ultimatum."
"Then with all possible reluctance I must ask you to have the goodness to return the brief."
"With an equal reluctance I feel I must decline to do so," said Northcote, speaking through tight lips.
For a moment the solicitor was taken aback by this pointblank refusal.
