But I blocked his path and did not offer to move.
"Tell me," I said, "when one surrenders his personal feelings to his professional feelings, may not the action be defined as a sort of spiritual mayhem ?" I did not get an answer.

Colonel Ingram had ingloriously bolted, overturning a palm in his flight.
Next I tried the newspapers.

I wrote a quiet, restrained, dispassionate account of Jackson's case.

I made no charges against the men with whom I had talked, nor, for that matter, did I even mention them.

I gave the actual facts of the case, the long years Jackson had worked in the mills, his effort to save the machinery from damage and the consequent accident, and his own present wretched and starving condition.