It's getting late, and I don't like going without my night's rest.' 'Where do you suppose you'll get a night's rest ?' Racksole asked.
'In the cells, of course.

Haven't I told you I know when I'm beaten.

I'm not so blind as not to be able to see that there's at any rate a prima facie case against me.

I expect I shall get off with a year or two's imprisonment as accessory after the fact--I think that's what they call it.

Anyhow, I shall be in a position to prove that I am not implicated in the murder of this unfortunate nincompoop.' He pointed, with a strange, scornful gesture of his elbow, to the bed.