COKESON. Morning, Mr. Walter.

WALTER. My father here?

COKESON. [Always with a certain patronage as to a young man who
might be doing better] Mr. James has been here since eleven o'clock.

WALTER. I've been in to see the pictures, at the Guildhall.

COKESON. [Looking at him as though this were exactly what was to be
expected] Have you now--ye--es. This lease of Boulter's--am I to
send it to counsel?

WALTER. What does my father say?

COKESON. 'Aven't bothered him.

WALTER. Well, we can't be too careful.

COKESON. It's such a little thing--hardly worth the fees. I thought
you'd do it yourself.

WALTER. Send it, please. I don't want the responsibility.

COKESON. [With an indescribable air of compassion] Just as you
like. This "right-of-way" case--we've got 'em on the deeds.

WALTER. I know; but the intention was obviously to exclude that bit
of common ground.

COKESON. We needn't worry about that. We're the right side of the
law.

WALTER. I don't like it,

COKESON. [With an indulgent smile] We shan't want to set ourselves
up against the law. Your father wouldn't waste his time doing that.

As he speaks JAMES How comes in from the partners' room. He is
a shortish man, with white side-whiskers, plentiful grey hair,
shrewd eyes, and gold pince-nez.

JAMES. Morning, Walter.

WALTER. How are you, father?

COKESON. [Looking down his nose at the papers in his hand as though
deprecating their size] I'll just take Boulter's lease in to young
Falder to draft the instructions. [He goes out into FALDER'S room.]

WALTER. About that right-of-way case?

JAMES. Oh, well, we must go forward there. I thought you told me
yesterday the firm's balance was over four hundred.

WALTER. So it is.

JAMES. [Holding out the pass-book to his son] Three--five--one, no
recent cheques. Just get me out the cheque-book.

WALTER goes to a cupboard, unlocks a drawer and produces a
cheque-book.

JAMES. Tick the pounds in the counterfoils. Five, fifty-four,
seven, five, twenty-eight, twenty, ninety, eleven, fifty-two,
seventy-one. Tally?

WALTER. [Nodding] Can't understand. Made sure it was over four
hundred.

JAMES. Give me the cheque-book. [He takes the check-book and cons
the counterfoils] What's this ninety?

WALTER. Who drew it?

JAMES. You.

WALTER. [Taking the cheque-book] July 7th? That's the day I went
down to look over the Trenton Es