'Stop one moment till I make a note of that,' said Gideon; any one might
have supposed he was an old practitioner.

'Perhaps you wouldn't mind my smoking a cigar?' asked Michael. He had
pulled himself together for the entrance; now again there began to
settle on his mind clouds of irresponsible humour and incipient slumber;
and he hoped (as so many have hoped in the like case) that a cigar would
clear him.

'Oh, certainly,' cried Gideon blandly. 'Try one of mine; I can
confidently recommend them.' And he handed the box to his client.

'In case I don't make myself perfectly clear,' observed the Australian,
'it's perhaps best to tell you candidly that I've been lunching. It's a
thing that may happen to any one.'

'O, certainly,' replied the affable barrister. 'But please be under no
sense of hurry. I can give you,' he added, thoughtfully consulting his
watch--'yes, I can give you the whole afternoon.'

'The business that brings me here,' resumed the Australian with gusto,
'is devilish delicate, I can tell you. My friend Mr Thomas, being an
American of Portuguese extraction, unacquainted with our habits, and a
wealthy manufacturer of Broadwood pianos--'

'Broadwood pianos?' cried Gideon, with some surprise. 'Dear me, do I
understand Mr Thomas to be a member of the firm?'

'O, pirated Broadwoods,' returned Michael. 'My friend's the American