there was nothing that he could read in his own house. He had a
large pleasant room in which to sit, looking out from the ground
floor of Stone Buildings on to the gardens belonging to the Inn,
--and here, in the centre of the metropolis, but in perfect quiet
as far as the outside world was concerned, he had lived and still
lived his life.

At about noon on the day following that on which Lopez had made
his sudden swoop on Mr Parker and had then dined with Everett
Wharton, he called at Stone Buildings, and was shown into the
lawyer's room. His quick eye at once discovered the book which
Mr Wharton half hid away, and saw upon it Mr Mudie's suspicious
ticket. Barristers certainly never get their law books from
Mudie, and Lopez at once knew that his hoped-for father-in-law
had been reading a novel. He had not suspected such weakness,
but argued well from it for the business he had in hand. There
must be a soft spot to be found about the heart of an old lawyer
who spent his mornings in such occupation. 'How do you do, sir?'
said Mr Wharton rising from his seat. 'I hope you are well,
sir.' Though he had been reading a novel his tone and manner
were very cold. Lopez had never been in Stone Buildings before,
and was not quite sure that he might not have committed some
offence in coming there. 'Take a seat, Mr Lopez. Is there
anything I can do for you in my way?'

There was a great deal that could be done 'in his way' as father,
--but how was it to be introduced and the case made clear? Lopez
did not know whether the old man had as yet ever suspected such a
feeling as that which he now intended to declare. He had been
intimate at the house at Manchester Square, and had certainly