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 *itor. "Michael Tobin and yourself are well matched—a pair of deuced odd fellows."

"In any case," persisted Northcote, "if a genie you are, you would say you are a genie in spite of yourself."

"I say nothing at all when it comes to genies," said the solicitor with emphasis. "I don't know anything about them; they are not in my line. They don't trouble the common lawyer in the pursuit of his bread. What does trouble him is time, for time is money."

The solicitor took out his watch, a thing of value.

"Twenty past eleven," he said. "There's a fortune awaiting the fellow who invents an automatic brake to slip on old Father Time. I've got to get out to Norbiton to-night,—I promised my little girl, and she will be sitting up. But before I go I wish you would cast your eyes over your brief, and tell me precisely what you think about it."

The solicitor handed to Northcote the document tied with red tape, and called again for the waiter.

"You'll have a liqueur?—they've got some white curaçao that might be worse. And perhaps some coffee might help us at this stage. Fortunately, this is the one place in London where they know how it's made. And, Alphonse, you might bring some of those fireworks that you call cigars."