gh-pitched and shrill, the other softer,
but both absolutely unrestrained by any consciousness of being in a
place where the chatter of strange voices is forbidden, and stillness
and quiet a condition of being. The sound of the talk rang through Mr.
Tatham's head as if all the city bells were ringing. One of the unseen
ladies had a very shrill laugh, to which she gave vent freely. John
fidgeted in his chair, raised up his eyes above the level of his
spectacles (he wore spectacles, alas! by this time habitually when he
worked) as if lifting a voiceless appeal to those powers who interest
themselves in law cases to preserve him from disturbance, then made a
manly effort to disregard the sounds that filled the air, returning with
a shake of his head to his reading. But at the end of a long day, and in
the dulness of the afternoon, perhaps a man is less capable than at
other moments to fight against interruption of this kind and finally he
threw down his papers and touched his bell. Simmons came in full of pale
indignation, which made itself felt even beyond the circle illuminated
by the lamp.

"What can I do?" he said. "They've planted themselves by the fire, and
there they mean to stay. 'Oh, very well, we'll wait,' they said, quite
calm. And I make no doubt they will, having nothing else to do, till all
is blue."

Mr. Simmons had a gift of expression of which all his friends were
flatteringly sensible, and he was very friendly and condescending to
John, of whom he had taken care for many years.

"What is to be done?" said Mr. Tatham. "Can't you do anything to get
them away?"

Simmons shook his head. "There's two of them," he said, "and they
entertain each other, and they think it's fun to jabber like that in a
lawyer's office. The young one says, 'What a queer place!' and the
other, she holds forth about other times when she's been here."

"Oh, she's been here other times---- Do you know her, Simmons?"

"Not from Adam, Mr. Tatham--or, I should say, from Eve, as she's a
lady. But a real lady I should say, though she don't behave herself as
such--one of the impudent ones. They are never impudent like that," said
Mr. Simmons, with profound observation, "unless they are real high
or--real low."

"Hum!" said John, hesitating. And then he added, "There is a young one,
you say?"

But I do not myself think, though the light-minded may imagine it to be
so, that it was because there was a young one that John gave in. It w