“In view of what I have said, Mr. Shorthorn, would you prefer that another Magistrate should deal with this case?”
“I am more than content, sir, that you should deal with it.”
Mr. Shorthorn resumed his seat.
“And you, Mr. Quaritch?”
Treasury Counsel smiled whimsically.
“The best, sir,” he said, “is good enough for me.”
An attempt at applause, which succeeded the roar of laughter, was instantly suppressed.
“Very well, then. On the evening of the defendant’s arrest I was dining out. Though he is probably unaware of the fact, I patronized the same restaurant as he did and, what is more, I sat at the next table.” Everyone’s gaze shifted to the accused. The latter stood like a rock. “And I observed—if I may say so, with surprise—that he drank nothing but water.”
A nervous ripple of laughter ran through the Court.
“I see that my words were equivocal. I should say that my surprise was provoked not by his personal failure to drink wine—for I do not know his habits and I never set eyes on him before—but by the spectacle of anyone of his age who to-day considers water fit for internal use.”