“It is scarcely worth arguing about,” remarked Antony Cowlrick. “He is not the first, and will not be the last.”
“He! Who?” quickly asked Mr. Goldberry.
“The man who was murdered in Great Porter Square.”
“Do you know anything of him?”
“What should I know? Some interesting particulars concerning him will no doubt one day be brought to light.” Cowlrick paused a moment. “You are a lawyer, and therefore a decent member of society. You go to church, and, of course, believe in God.”
“Well?”
“Well!” echoed Antony Cowlrick. “Do you think God will allow the guilty to escape, or that He needs the assistance of a lawyer to punish the man who sheds his brother’s blood?”
“His brother’s blood!” exclaimed Mr. Goldberry.
“Are we not all brothers!” said Antony Cowlrick with bitter emphasis. “Do we not all live in charity with one another? Enough. I have no desire to prolong this conversation; it can lead to no good result. But I felt bound to answer you civilly, as it is barely possible, when you rose in the police-court to defend me, that you were in part animated by a kindly sentiment for an unfortunate man. On the other hand, you may have been wholly impelled by a desire to advertise your name in an important case of murder. But you shall have the benefit of the doubt. Give me your card. If at any time I should need you, I will call upon or send for you.”