In their Wisdom by C.P. Snow

On the Thursday morning, after counsels' speeches, Mr. Justice Bosanquet announced that he would take the rest of the day to reflect and give his decision the following morning. Another night of waiting for the anxious: and they went on waiting during the first careful, non-committal hour or so of Mr. Justice Bosanquet. Sitting contentedly in his place, teacher-like, he began with a homily. He didn't fancy himself as an orator, and actually there was a marked lack of resemblance between his effect on an audience and that of Trotsky at his most inspired. Nevertheless, Bosanquet was not deterred from utterance and in secret enjoyed it. His homily was, like all his other homilies, sensible, indefatigably so. It dealt with the unwisdom of going to law whenever the legal process could be avoided. Cases like the one before him could and should be settled between the parties: compromise was to be preferred to litigation.

That wasn't said so simply, and the clock ticked on. Then he approached somewhat nearer the point. Undue influence. That was the bone of the plaintiff's pleading. Of all the cases that came before this Division of the High Court, those of undue influence were the most difficult, and sometimes it seemed the most unrealistic, to decide. Undue influence, what did it or could it mean? There was no satisfactory definition. Imagine that he (Mr. Justice Bosanquet) is a very old man to whom in the nature of things death cannot be far away. There is no relative close at hand to minister to him, but there is, shall we say, a nurse. A nurse who is always available, makes him feel less lonely, understands his worries. She will talk to him about whatever is on his mind and will help him make his decisions. Is that influence, can it become undue influence?