"
The Turtle Dove had spoken with emphasis and had spoken well, and Mr.
Camperdown had not ventured to interrupt him while he was speaking. He was
sitting far back on his chair, but with his neck bent and with his head
forward, rubbing his long thin hands slowly over each other, and with his
deep bright eyes firmly fixed on his companion's face. Mr. Camperdown had
not unfrequently heard him speak in the same fashion before, and was
accustomed to his manner of unravelling the mysteries and searching into
the causes of Law with a spirit which almost lent a poetry to the subject.
When Mr. Dove would do so, Mr. Camperdown would not quite understand the
words spoken, but he would listen to them with an undoubting reverence.
And he did understand them in part, and was conscious of an infusion of a
certain amount of poetic spirit into his own bosom. He would think of
these speeches afterwards, and would entertain high but somewhat cloudy
ideas of the beauty and the majesty of Law. Mr. Dove's speeches did Mr.
Camperdown good, and helped to preserve him from that worst of all
diseases, a low idea of humanity.
"You think, then, we had better not claim them as heirlooms?" he asked.
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