'Humph!'
'Not ruined, Mr. Warden,' returned Snitchey. 'Not so bad as that.
You have done a good deal towards it, I must say, but you are not
ruined. A little nursing - '
'A little Devil,' said the client.
'Mr. Craggs,' said Snitchey, 'will you oblige me with a pinch of
snuff? Thank you, sir.'
As the imperturbable lawyer applied it to his nose with great
apparent relish and a perfect absorption of his attention in the
proceeding, the client gradually broke into a smile, and, looking
up, said:
'You talk of nursing. How long nursing?'
'How long nursing?' repeated Snitchey, dusting the snuff from his
fingers, and making a slow calculation in his mind. 'For your
involved estate, sir? In good hands? S. and C.'s, say? Six or
seven years.'
'To starve for six or seven years!' said the client with a fretful
laugh, and an impatient change of his position.
'To starve for six or seven years, Mr. Warden,' said Snitchey,
'would be very uncommon indeed. You might get another estate by
showing yourself, the while. But, we don't think you could do it -
speaking for Self and Craggs - and consequently don't advise it.'
'What DO you advise?'
'Nursing, I say,' repeated Snitchey. 'Some few years of nursing by
Self and Craggs would bring it round. But to enable us to make
terms, and hold terms, and you to keep terms, you must go away; you
must live abroad.
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