"Sorrow is better than laughter," said Glass stiffly. "For by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better."
"If it's my heart you're talking about, you're wrong!" responded the Sergeant instantly.
"I see no reason for mirth," Glass said. "I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all day long."
"Look here, let's get this straight!" begged the Sergeant. "Have you really got anything to mourn about, or is this just your idea of having a good time?"
"I see sin upon sin discovered by reason of one man's death. I see how abominable and filthy is man, which drinketh iniquity like water."
"You know, when I came down here this morning," said the Sergeant, restraining himself with a strong effort, "I was feeling all right. Nice sunny day, birds singing, the case beginning to get interesting. But if I have to listen to much more of that kind of talk I shall have the horrors, which isn't going to help either of us. You forget about iniquity and think about this case you're supposed to be working on."
"It is that which is in my mind," said Glass. "An evil man is slain, but by his death hidden sins are laid bare. There is not one implicated in the case who can say: "I am blameless; there is no spot on me."'
"Today's great thought!" said the Sergeant. "Of course no one can say there's no spot on them! What did you expect! You know, your trouble is you take things too hard. What have other people's spots got to do with you, anyway? I may not know as much as you do about the Bible, but what about the mote in your neighbour's eye, eh?"
"It is true," said Glass. "You do right to reprove me. I am full of sin."
"Well, don't take on about it," recommended the Sergeant. "Let's get down to business. Nothing fresh come to light, I suppose?"