"Very fortunate man indeed, sir, to have you take so much interest in him.

Fancy you--with all your opportunities in town, Mr.Brereton!--stopping down here, just to defend that fellow out of--what shall we call it ?--pure and simple Quixotism! Quixotism!--I believe that's the correct term, Mr.Brereton.
Oh, yes--for the man's as good as done for.

Not a cat's chance! He'll swing, sir, will your client!" "Your simile is not a good one, Mr.Pett," retorted Brereton.

"Cats are said to have nine lives." "Cat, rat, mouse, dog--no chance whatever, sir," said Pett, cheerfully.
"I know what a country jury'll say.

If I were a betting man, Mr.
Brereton--which I ain't, being a regular church attendant--I'd lay you ten to one the jury'll never leave the box, sir!" "No--I don't think they will--when the right man is put in the dock, Mr.
Pett," replied Brereton.
Pett drew back and looked the young barrister in the face with an expression that was half quizzical and half serious.
"You don't mean to say that you really believe this fellow to be innocent, Mr.Brereton ?" he exclaimed.