"What do you know of our defence ?" "My dear sir," said Stratton, "I know _all_ about it." "Sir, that is impossible.

Nobody knows what our defence is to be except Mr.Benham and myself." "And Mr.Stratton, of the Chicago _Argus_," replied the young man, as he buttoned his coat.
"May I ask, then, what the defence is ?" "Certainly," answered the Chicago man.

"Your defence is that Mr.Brenton was insane, and that he committed suicide." Even Mr.Brown's habitual self-control, acquired by long years of training in keeping his feelings out of sight, for the moment deserted him.

He drew his breath sharply, and cast a piercing glance at the young man before him, who was critically watching the lawyer's countenance, although he appeared to be entirely absorbed in buttoning his overcoat.
Then Mr.Brown gave a short, dry laugh.
"I have met a bluff before," he said carelessly; "but I should like to know what makes you think that such is our defence ?" "_Think_!" cried the young man.

"I don't think at all; I _know_ it." "How do you know it ?" "Well, for one thing, I know it by your own actions a moment ago.