After some helpless casting about, Mike brightened and began again:
"He is dressed like a 'spectable pieman. A sort of a pastrycook."
"Is he here?" asked my guardian.
"I left him," said Mike, "a settin on some door-steps round the corner."
"Take him past that window, and let me see him."
The window indicated, was the office window. We all three went to it, behind the wire blind, and presently saw the client go by in an accidental manner, with a murderous-looking tall individual, in a short suit of white linen and a paper cap. This guileless confectioner was not by any means sober, and had a black eye in the green stage of recovery, which was painted over.
"Tell him to take his witness away directly," said my guardian to the clerk, in extreme disgust, "and ask him what he means by bringing such a fellow as that."
My guardian then took me into his own room, and while he lunched, standing, from a sandwich-box and a pocket-flask of sherry (he seemed to bully his very sandwich as he
