'And now,' he said, 'we can go home.'
'Pitman,' said the lawyer, stopping short, 'your recklessness fills me
with concern. What! we have been wet through the greater part of the
day, and you propose, in cold blood, to go home! No, sir--hot Scotch.'
And taking his friend's arm he led him sternly towards the nearest
public-house. Nor was Pitman (I regret to say) wholly unwilling.
Now that peace was restored and the body gone, a certain innocent
skittishness began to appear in the manners of the artist; and when
he touched his steaming glass to Michael's, he giggled aloud like a
venturesome schoolgirl at a picnic.
CHAPTER IX. Glorious Conclusion of Michael Finsbury's Holiday
I know Michael Finsbury personally; my business--I know the awkwardness
of having such a man for a lawyer--still it's an old story now, and
there is such a thing as gratitude, and, in short, my legal business,
although now (I am thankful to say) of quite a placid character, remains
entirely in Michael's hands. But the trouble is I have no natural talent
for addresses; I learn one for every man--that is friendship's offering;
and the friend who subsequently changes his residence is dead to me,
memory refusing to pursue him.
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