“The social tax levied by stupidity on intellect.” Gastineau roused himself again. “Ah, my dear Geoffrey, we must not be impatient with fools and bores. If every one were clever and interesting we should be lost in the crowd. Now; the Rullington case. Is the day fixed?” “It is only five down the list,” Herriard answered, taking some memoranda from his pocket. “One case is a big one, but Dancer tells me there is a great possibility of its being settled. So Rullington may come on at any time.” “You found my notes for your speech clear, eh?” “Quite, thank you. I ought to do something there. I only wish I could do justice to your ideas.” Gastineau seemed rather darkly preoccupied. “Oh, my dear fellow,” he replied, almost mechanically, “you’ll do me and yourself justice enough if only you make up your mind to it. Confidence, confidence is the nine points of pleading.” “And the tenth?” Herriard laughed. “Is composed of equal parts of law and luck. You ought to make a big hit here, Geof. It’s a fighting case, if ever there was one; the sort of case where, even with losing it a foregone conclusion, a man who can seize the chance is sure to send up his reputation.” “I’m afraid of Lady Rullington.” “Never mind her, as long as you are not afraid of yourself.” “She may break down under Maxwell’s cross-examination.” “Maxwell’s line of comity will naturally be to bully her into damaging admissions; so much the better for you. A better man for our purpose could not lead against you. You can have the chivalrous stop out all along, and make capital out of his treatment of your witness. Do everything to get the sympathy, at least of the public, with you, and fight, fight, fight; then, whatever the result, you, Geoffrey Herriard, will score heavily.” “Thanks to you.” “Oh, you know I am only too grateful to find a means of utilizing what must otherwise now be a buried talent. By the way, talking of _causes célèbres_, what is the latest about the Vaux House affair.” “I have heard of no further development.” “Of course every one is talking about it?” “It is a perfect conversational windfall.” “I hope, for your sake, my dear boy, the Rullington case will not come on till the Lancashire has talked itself out.” Herriard laughed. “It promises to do so, unless it gets a second wind from some sensational development.” Gastineau shook his head. “I don’t see much chance of that.” “No,” Herriard agreed. “Only the finding of the owner of the discovered weapon.” “Have you heard any rumour of that?” the question came sharply. “Oh, nothing tangible,” Herriard answered. “Of course, everybody thinks it necessary and smart to have a theory.” “And names are mentioned?” “Oh, yes. Half the smart women in town are pointed at, many of whom were not even at the ball.”