Explore "The Will and the Way" by Bernard Capes on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"No, ma'am," said Sergeant Roper. "It's no case, in my opinion. We'd better hold to our own, which is clear enough, and not go confusing the indictment with a supernoomary count, which might end us, like the dog, with getting neither the jint nor the shadow for our pains."
He spoke, fondling his beard, after profound thought, to Miss Pringle, who, fluttering between the extremes of agitation and gratification, presided by courtesy at a meeting of conspirators hastily summoned to her lodgings. The lady sat at one side of her sitting room table; Le Strang and the sergeant faced her across it at the other. They were met to discuss ways and means towards the swift exposure of a scoundrel, and, in the course of the debate, made her, as representing the speaker's chair, the formal medium for their arguments. The position greatly flattered her, while it left her uncommitted; for in addressing her they really spoke to one another. But there was a subtle design behind Le Strang's euphemisms, the crafty rogue, which the poor woman never so much as guessed at.