I daresay your practice can take care of itself," ironically.

Browne nodded cheerfully.

"You can't tell what may happen in the next six months." "What do you mean ?" "Well, it's possible that you may become a widower and she a wid--" "Good heaven, Judge Garrett! Impossible!" gasped Bobby Browne, clutching the arms of his chair.
"Nothing is impossible, my boy--" "Well, if that's what you're counting on you can count me out, I won't speculate on my wife's death." "But, man, suppose that it _did_ happen!" roared the judge irascibly.
"You should be prepared for the best--I mean the worst.

Don't look like a sick dog.

We've got to watch every corner, that's all, and be Johnny-on-the-spot when the time comes.