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practical and intellectual merits, Henry had rapidly grown aware that feelings of an altogether more lyrical kind stirred within him. He was an unremarkable young man, of medium height, with thinning dark hair and a pleasant oval face, softly spoken and mildly jovial, but he possessed a passionate heart. Such girlfriends as he had tended to be mild-mannered, unexciting girls of his own type, but in Felicity, with her volatile ways and raucous spirit, he felt he had met the woman of his dreams. She was unpredictable, often vulgar, and occasionally bad-tempered, but Henry had discovered that he loved all of these qualities, just as he loved her shocking pink angora sweater and her black lycramicro-skirts. But he felt she was far beyond his reach. He knew all about her turbulent life with her boyfriend, Vince, and felt he could never compete. Felicity obviously adored Vince. Besides, Henry was keenly aware of the conventions of chambers, and knew that the fact that he and Felicity worked together in a professional capacity precluded any possibility of romance. He consoled himself with this notion, telling himself that if they had not worked together, things might be very different. Henry accepted that his feelings must stay unrequited, but they remained to trouble him every working day.
    In response to Felicity’s observation about love being beautiful, Henry merely sighed and replied in a mutter that he wasn’t so sure about that.
     
    By the time Anthony and Camilla arrived at the pub, Godfrey Ellwood was already there. He was a tall man, almost completely bald, with a leathery face and a sharp sense of humour. As a QC, Ellwood was renowned for his energy, for throwing himself wholeheartedly into cases, especially those in which he believed. The Capstall case was one of those. Whatever cynicism he might possess regarding the fate of those Names who had gambled greedily and lost, he was thoroughly convinced that Lloyd’s had failed the bulk of its members miserably, and that fortunes had been made by a few at the expense of the many. He regarded Capstall, the underwriter, as an overweeningly ambitious and irresponsible man who had written some of the most spectacularly bad risks in the market purely in the hope of long-term gain, at the expense of the Names on his syndicate. Ellwood’s personal convictions had entirely infected Anthony, his junior, and not since he had first helped Leo Davies on a case a few years ago had Anthony felt so inspired and enthusiastic. Ellwood managed to make him feel that they were acting for the little man against the mighty, that in taking on Lloyd’sthey were challenging an institution whose lofty disdain for its members was no longer tolerable. Those agents, underwriters and auditors who had been so dismissive of the threat of litigation three or four years ago now knew they had real cause for concern. This victory in the House of Lords, although only a stepping stone, was a significant achievement, and Ellwood was in an ebullient mood when he greeted Anthony and Camilla.
    ‘We’ve cleared that hurdle in no uncertain terms, eh? What’ll you both have? Julian says he’ll be down to join us shortly – got some speed and consumption claim to finish …’ They took their drinks over to a table, and sat discussing the case. Gradually the pub began to fill up, a few more people joined them, and by seven o’clock the place was crowded and smokey. Camilla, who knew from experience that more than two gin and tonics made her face permanently pink, sat nursing the remains of her second drink and shooting rapid, admiring glances at Anthony. She liked to think that working with him on this case had formed a bond between them, that she shared part of the glamour of this success. She was totally happy. Glancing around the pub, she suddenly saw a familiar face, a girl who had been in the year below her at Oxford, and with whom she shared several mutual friends. Proud to be seen in such distinguished