.. Oh, by the way, Sam."
"Yes?"
"I should lock up the office to-day if I were you, or anxious clients
will be coming in and asking for advice, and you'll find yourself in
difficulties. I shall be gone, and Peters is away on his holiday. You'd
better lock the outer door."
"All right," said Sam absently. He was finding Widgery stiff reading.
He had just got to the bit about Raptu Haeredis, which, as of course
you know, is a writ for taking away an heir holding insocage.
Sir Mallaby looked at his watch.
"Well, I'll have to be going. See you later, Sam."
"Good-bye."
Sir Mallaby went out, and Sam, placing both elbows on the desk and
twining his fingers in his hair, returned with a frown of concentration to
his grappling with Widgery. For perhaps ten minutes the struggle was
an even one, then gradually Widgery got the upper hand. Sam's mind,
numbed by constant batterings against the stony ramparts of legal
phraseology, weakened, faltered, and dropped away; and a moment
later his thoughts, as so often happened when he was alone, darted
off and began to circle round the image of Billie Bennett.
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