"Front row of the pit, my boy. Absolute freedom; comfort of the stalls without having to dress. Nobody waiting to seize your `overcoat, sir.' Good view of the stage; and, when the curtain's down, time and opportunity to pity the curled darlings of society, who stand, in melancholy row, with their backs to the orchestra, fiddling their crush hats, and staring up at the audience through eyeglasses that blind." "And meet Flick and Vanleigh." "Who cares?" said Pratt, forcing his friend into a well-worn easy chair, and taking away hat and stick. "Isn't that a lovely chair, Dick? I've worked that chair into that shape--moulded it, sir, into the form of my figure, and worn off all its awkward corners. Pipe?--there you are. 'Bacco?--there you are. Whisky?--there you are. And there's a light. Have a dressing-gown and slippers?" "No, no--thanks," said Dick, laughing. But his face twitched as, after filling and trying to light a pipe, he laid it hastily down, wrung Pratt's hand, and then started up and walked to the window, to stand gazing out at the dirty walls before him. Before he had been there a moment, a friendly hand was laid upon his shoulder and Pratt got hold of his hand, standing behind him without a word, till he turned again and walked back to his seat. "Don't mind me, Franky, I'm very sore yet." "I know, I know," said Pratt, feelingly. "It's hard--cursed hard! I'd say damned hard, only as a straightforward man I object to swearing. But where's your bag, portmanteau, luggage?" "Oh, that's all right," said Richard, lighting his pipe, and smoking. "What do you mean by all right? Where shall I send for them?" "Send for them?" "Send for them--yes. You've come to stay?" "Yes, for an hour or two." "Dick," cried Pratt, bringing his fist down upon the table with a bang, "if you are such a sneak as to go and stay anywhere else, I'll cut you." "My dear Frank, don't be foolish, I've taken lodgings." "Then give them up." "Nonsense, man! But listen to me. You don't blame me for giving up?" "I don't know, Dick--I don't know," said Pratt. "I've lain in bed ruminating again and again; and one time I say it's noble and manly, and the next time I call you a fool." Richard laughed. "You see, old fellow, I'm a lawyer. I've been educating myself with cases, and the consequence is that I think cases. Here, then, I say, is a man in possession of a great estate; somebody tells him what may be a cock-and-bull tale--like a melodrama at the Vic, or a story in penny numbers--about a mysterious changeling and the rest of it, and he throws up at once." "Yes," said Richard. "Speaking still as a man fed upon cases I say, then, give me proofs-- papers, documents, something I can tie up with red tape, make abstracts of, or set a solicitor to prepare a brief from. I'm afraid you've done wrong, Dick, I am indeed."