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The "Cock Inn" is situated in Fleet Street, not twenty yards froe that leads down to the court where Mr James Morton still has his chambers
It was a convenient place, therefore, for Laurie to lunch in, and he generally made his appearance there a few minutes before one o'clock to partake of a s of beer Sometimes he caht out systeed to have reserved for him at least until one o'clock a particular seat in a particular partition in that row of stable-like shelters that run the length of the room opposite the door on the first floor
On the twenty-third of February, however--it was a Friday, by the way, and boiled plaice would have to be eaten instead of rump steak--he was a little annoyed to find his seat already occupied by a srey beard and spectacles, ith a newspaper propped in front of hied in the consumption of boiled plaice
The little man looked up at hiain upon the paper Laurie noticed that his hat and stick were laid upon the adjoining chair as if to retain it He hesitated an instant; then he slid in on the other side, opposite the stranger, tapped his glass with his knife, and sat down
When the waiter came, a faht look of peevishness, gave his order, and glanced reproachfully at the occupied seat The waiter gave the ghost of a shrug with his shoulders, significant of apologetic helplessness, and went away
A lanced this way and that, nodding i off to a less occupied table when the stranger looked up
"Mr Morton," he cried, "Mr Morton!" in an odd voice that see into falsetto Certainly he was very like a portly bird, thought Laurie
The other turned round, nodded with short geniality, and slid into the chair from which the old man moved his hat and stick with zealous haste
"And what are you doing here?" said Mr Morton
"Just taking a bite like yourself," said the other "Friday--worse luck"
Laurie was conscious of a touch of interest This man was a Catholic, then, he supposed
"Oh, by the way," said Mr Morton, "have you--er--" and he indicated Laurie "No? Baxter, let me introduce Mr Cathcart"