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The Middle Temple Murder by J. S. (Joseph Smith) Fletcher
page 25 of 314 (07%)

"I suppose one's always nervous about first appearances," she said.
"However, I think Ronald's got plenty of confidence, and, as he says,
it's not much of a case: it isn't even a jury case. I'm afraid you'll
find it dull, Mr. Spargo--it's only something about a promissory
note."

"Oh, I'm all right, thank you," replied Spargo, unconsciously falling
back on a favourite formula. "I always like to hear lawyers--they
manage to say such a lot about--about--"

"About nothing," said Jessie Aylmore. "But there--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
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