Cary: "Well, but it's still a thing because..."
Diane: "Chinese Wall! Chinese Wall! I have established a Chinese Wall between Eli and Alicia's work, and anything have to do with the SA."
Peter: "I don't care about public image, it's not about that."
Cary: "It's about Bond's drug dealer, Lemond Bishop."
Diane: "Holy shit, still? Look, even when we were super-creepy we still only handled his shell companies and money-laundering and other pretend legit businesses."
Peter & Cary: "It's not that we don't trust you on that -- you'd have to be idiots or criminals to do otherwise -- but it's just that we want to squeeze you firmly by the nuts. Don't think we're being more patronizing than we are, which is still plenty."
Diane: "I'm sure you'll find that every major law firm has a few potentially unsavory clients."
Peter & Cary: "It's not that we think you're dirty. We prefer to call you tainted."
Diane: "Yeah, why would you wanna be insulting when 'tainted' is such a better term."
Peter & Cary: "So you need to voluntarily submit to an audit by the Illinois State Department of Taxation. It won't violate attorney-client privilege, just show us that your hands are clean from any drug money. And then maybe jump through some other hoops, but mostly we are openly threatening you. Do you have any weird assets or cash? Just between us."
Diane: "...Shit y'all, I gotta bounce. I'll talk it over with my partner."
Peter: "Oh, do you know Will Gardner? What a coincidence."
Diane: "Yeah, he's my ... law partner. At my law firm. Which is called Lockhart, Gardner."
Peter: "Small world! Hey, since this whole meeting was about getting him over here and humiliating him like we're doing you now, why not bring him along next time we're calling you names and throwing around jazz hands? Anyway, sorry! I just have to take a call from my son while we're having this meeting. My son Zach, we're having dinner. At our house. Where he lives."
Diane: "I can't help feeling like something weird is going on here."
Peter & Cary: "It is. It is so weird. Bye!"
His Lordship is annoying, in the grand Good Wife tradition: He insists they all pretend they're on Greenwich time, he makes them start every sentence with "Your Lordship," he natters and nickers and whickers and wanks. He prefers barristers to solicitors, obvi; he is having none of our American guff. Sadly, no wig.