—so do gentlemen who write for the papers, don't they?"
Spargo was about to admit that there was a good deal to be said on that point when Miss Aylmore suddenly drew her sister's attention to a man who had just entered the well of the court.
"Look, Jessie!" she observed. "There's Mr. Elphick!"
Spargo looked down at the person indicated: an elderly, large-faced, smooth-shaven man, a little inclined to stoutness, who, wigged and gowned, was slowly making his way to a corner seat just outside that charmed inner sanctum wherein only King's Counsel are permitted to sit. He dropped into this in a fashion which showed that he was one of those men who loved personal comfort; he bestowed his plump person at the most convenient angle and fitting a monocle in his right eye, glanced around him. There were a few of his professional brethren in his vicinity; there were half a dozen solicitors and their clerks in conversation with one or other of them; there were court officials. But the gentleman of the monocle swept all these with an indifferent look and cast his eyes upward until he caught sight of the two girls. Thereupon he made a most gracious bow in their direction; his broad face beamed in a genial smile, and he waved a white hand.
"Do you know Mr. Elphick, Mr. Spargo?" enquired the younger Miss Aylmore.
"I rather think I've seen him, somewhere about the Temple," answered Spargo. "In fact, I'm sure I have."
"His chambers are in Paper Buildings," said Jessie.
