"I want information, and assume any character to get it, in every case being guilty of deception. You think my last rôle unjustifiable because of the confessional. Had I simulated a Methodist parson, or a Presbyterian minister, or a Church of England divine, you would have thought much less of it; and yet, if there is any bad in the thing, the one is as bad as the other. Personally, I regard the confessional as a piece of superstitious ecclesiastical machinery, and am ready to utilize it, like any other superstition, for the purpose of obtaining information. Talk about personating the clergy; I have even been bold enough to appear as a lawyer, a quaker, a college professor, a sailor, and an actress."
"You have certainly led me to modify my opinion of your last performance."
"Which nearly gave me away. So you won't send me to the penitentiary; thanks! And now, as I said at first, how's Toner?"
"Oh, Toner's all right, with the fieriest skin on him that ever lay between two sheets. He has promised to give up drinking."
"It's very likely he'll have to."
"Why so?"
"They don't allow refreshments so strong in gaol."
"Be as easy as you can with the poor fellow, Mr. Nash."
"All depends on his future behaviour, and, in some other capacity, I shall let him know his danger."
As the two figures came down the road toward the Inn, a voice hailed them, the voice of the dominie. "Is Mr. Coristine there?" it shouted.