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'Your reputation will be all gone before you finish with me,' replied
his companion with a grin. 'Clap it in the bill, my boy. "For total loss
of reputation, six and eightpence." But,' continued Mr Wickham with more
seriousness, 'could I be bowled out of the Commission for this
little jest? I know it's small, but I like to be a JP. Speaking as a
professional man, do you think there's any risk?'
'What does it matter?' responded Michael, 'they'll chuck you out sooner
or later. Somehow you don't give the effect of being a good magistrate.'
'I only wish I was a solicitor,' retorted his companion, 'instead of a
poor devil of a country gentleman. Suppose we start one of those tontine
affairs ourselves; I to pay five hundred a year, and you to guarantee me
against every misfortune except illness or marriage.'
'It strikes me,' remarked the lawyer with a meditative laugh, as he
lighted a cigar, 'it strikes me that you must be a cursed nuisance in
this world of ours.'
'Do you really think so, Finsbury?' responded the magistrate, leaning
back in his cushions, delighted with the compliment. 'Yes, I suppose
I am a nuisance. But, mind you, I have a stake in the country: don't
forget that, dear boy.'
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