I ought to report that; I'm sorry." The misery of it all brought tears to my eyes: his gaolers even felt sorry for him.

I thanked the warder and turned again to Oscar.
"Don't let yourself fear at all," I exclaimed.

"You will have your chance again and must take it; only don't lose heart and don't be witty next time in court.

The jury hate it.

They regard it as intellectual superiority and impudence.