In theory he was still sceptical of Gideon Vetch, yet he had already surrendered every faculty except that impish heretical spectator that dwelt apart in his brain.
"You want something of course, every last one of you, even Darrow," resumed Vetch, with his charming smile.

"I can safely assume that if you didn't want something, you wouldn't be here.

Good Lord, if a man so much as bows to me in the street without asking a favour, I begin to think that he is either a half-wit or a ne'er-do-well." "At least I want nothing for myself," laughed Stephen, a trifle sharply.
"Nor does Darrow, God bless him!--nor, for the matter of that, does Judge Page.

I've got nothing to give you that you would take, and so you are wishing Berkeley on me for the penitentiary board." The gleam of humour was still in his eyes and the drollery in his expressive voice.
"We are seeking this for the penitentiary, not for Mr.Berkeley.He is the man you need." "For a hobby, yes.

That's all right, of course, but, my dear young sir, you can't run the business of a state as a hobby any more than you can administer it as a philanthropy." "Perhaps.