"Be easy now," he bade her impatiently. "They can't do anything to
Ned until they find him guilty; and how are they going to find him
guilty when he's innocent?"
"Yes; but the appearances!"
"Fiddlesticks!" he answered her - and the expression chosen was a
mere concession to her sex, and not at all what Mr. Butler intended.
"Appearances can't establish guilt. Do be sensible, and remember
that they will have to prove that he killed Samoval. And you can't
prove a thing to be what it isn't. You can't!"
"Are you sure?"
"Certain sure," he replied with emphasis.
"Do you know that I shall have to give evidence before the court?"
she announced resentfully.
It was an announcement that gave him pause. Thoughtfully he stroked
his abominable tuft of red beard. Then he dismissed the matter with
a shrug and a smile.
"Well, and what of it?" he cried. "They are not likely to bully
you or cross-examine you. Just tell them what you saw from the
balcony. Indeed you can't very well say anything else, or they
will see that you are lying, and then heaven alone knows what may
happen to you, as well as to me."
She got up in a pet. "You're callous, Dick - callous!" she told
him. "Oh, I wish you had never come to me for shelter.
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