I fancy I hear Sir Abraham cross-questioning him at the Common Pleas." The warden thought of his income being thus discussed, his modest life, his daily habits, and his easy work; and nothing issued from that single cord, but a low wail of sorrow.

"I suppose they've sent this petition up to my father." The warden didn't know; he imagined they would do so this very day.
"What I can't understand is, how you let them do it, with such a command as you have in the place, or should have with such a man as Bunce.

I cannot understand why you let them do it." "Do what ?" asked the warden.
"Why, listen to this fellow Bold, and that other low pettifogger, Finney;--and get up this petition too.

Why didn't you tell Bunce to destroy the petition ?" "That would have been hardly wise," said the warden.
"Wise;--yes, it would have been very wise if they'd done it among themselves.

I must go up to the palace and answer it now, I suppose.
It's a very short answer they'll get, I can tell you." "But why shouldn't they petition, doctor ?" "Why shouldn't they!" responded the archdeacon, in a loud brazen voice, as though all the men in the hospital were expected to hear him through the walls; "why shouldn't they?
I'll let them know why they shouldn't; by the bye, warden, I'd like to say a few words to them all together." The warden's mind misgave him, and even for a moment he forgot to play.