For the Defence, Dr. Thorndyke

As Andrew sat in his cell, recalling again and again the incredible proceedings of the police court, he was conscious of the first stirrings of revolt against the malignity of Fate. The wild absurdity of the whole affair tended to dispel his apathy and rouse a spirit of resistance.

After all, the final blow had not fallen. He was not condemned; he was only committed for trial. There was still time for him to set up a defence; and Bolton's indelicately broad hints as to what he might expect from the judge if he made no reasonable defence spurred him on to reconsider his tactics. It was no question, the worthy officer pointed out, of a few months in prison. The crime of false personation is a felony and may carry a substantial term of penal servitude. That was an appalling prospect. It meant several years cut out of the best part of his life, to say nothing of the misery of those years; and at the end of it he would be no better off. For he would come out of prison with the label of Anthony Kempster affixed to him immovably and for ever.