"That 'll do, Professor Higginson," said Mr. Kirby, "it 's actionable."
And at that dread word from a lawyer the Professor sat down defeated.
"Kirby," said Mr. Brassington, turning to his friend, addressing him alone, and trying to speak without excitement in a low tone, "I don't understand."
"No, Brassington, you wouldn't," said Kirby kindly, turning as familiarly to him. "You see, Professor Higginson here borrowed your coat."
"He?" began Mr. Brassington explosively.
"Yes, yes," continued Mr. Kirby, "don't mix up big things with little, that 's what he did—any man would have done it. It was a terrible night, and someone had taken his cape. He just borrowed your coat. It was that night at Perkin's, you remember? The night you were going to Belgium and didn't—ten days ago?"
"Oh, yes, I remember well enough," said Mr. Brassington bitterly.
"Well, there you are," said Mr. Kirby with the utmost simplicity. "It 's all quite natural. Just a misunderstanding. Always happening. They thought he was 'you'. Eh?
