There was a ring on the little finger: and in an instant I knew--though I could not have sworn to it in court--yet knew more certainly than many things to which I could have testified on oath--that this was the hand I had seen closing the door in the Jew's House.
Through a buzzing of the brain I heard him addressing the Rector and protesting against the absurdity, the monstrosity, of the charge--yet still with that recurring agonised glance at me.

But my eyes now were on Mr.Rogers; and the buzzing ceased and my brain cleared when he swung round, inviting me to speak.

I cannot tell what question he put to me, but what I said was: "If you please, sirs, the runners are after me; and it isn't fair to make me tell yet what happened in the Jew's house, or what I saw there: for what I told might be twisted and turned against me." "Nonsense!" interrupted Mr.Rogers.

But the Rector nodded his head.
"The boy's right.

He's under suspicion himself, and should have a lawyer to advise him before he speaks.