Matt and Foggy walked in, having finished their court appearance for the day.
The two talked as they entered the law office. Foggy was carrying a thick stack of case files, a sheen of sweat on his temples. His slightly chubby body squeezed laboriously through the narrow passage as he complained to Matt about the opposing lawyer's sophistry in court.
Matt had changed out of the dark red Daredevil suit he had worn during their encounter the night before. Now he wore a light gray suit and sunglasses that hid his eyes. His left hand was in his pocket, while the white cane in his right tapped lightly against the smooth floor. His steps were steady; around people he knew, he showed none of the hesitation or uncertainty that might come from being unable to see.
His face bore some of the fatigue of the hearing, but he still listened patiently to Foggy's rambling, a faint smile on his lips.
"Seriously, Matt, can't you loosen those airtight moral standards of yours just a little? Just a tiny bit? We need to take on better clients..."
At that, the smile vanished from Matt's face. "What do you mean by better clients? Do you have a problem with our clients? They're good people, honest, kind people. What exactly do you mean by better clients? What makes a client better?"
Foggy was getting frustrated too. "Criminals with money, understand? You..."
Who was he doing all this for? A law firm had operating expenses! Living cost money! They lost money on every case. If he hadn't kept juggling things, this lousy little firm wouldn't even have been able to pay salaries. It would have gone under ages ago!
"Matt, Foggy."
Just as Foggy was about to say more, Karen, the firm's secretary, interrupted him.