Did he or did he not try to
shorten his life?"
"Of course he did--said so himself," Mr. Bosengate heard the wire-haired
man snap out, and from the following murmur of assent he alone
abstained. Guilty! Well--yes! There was no way out of admitting that,
but his feelings revolted against handing "that poor little beggar" over
to the tender mercy of his country's law. His whole soul rose in arms
against agreeing with that ill-bred little cur, and the rest of this
job-lot. He had an impulse to get up and walk out, saying: "Settle it
your own way. Good morning."
"It seems, sir," Gentleman Fox was saying, "that we're all agreed to
guilty, except yourself. If you will allow me, I don't see how you can
go behind what the prisoner himself admitted."
Thus brought up to the very guns, Mr. Bosengate, red in the face, thrust
his hands deep into the side pockets of his tunic, and, staring straight
before him, said:
"Very well; on condition we recommend him to mercy."
"What do you say, gentlemen; shall we recommend him to mercy?"
"'Ear, 'ear!" burst from the commercial traveller, and from the chemist
came the murmur:
"No harm in that."
"Well, I think there is.
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