"Your moral responsibility!" he said, with a ring of sarcasm. "I'm sick of this sentimental talk about moral responsibility—man's responsibility for the conduct of woman, and all the rest of it. The person who commits the crime is the criminal—that's the only foundation of law and order."
"Then you think, Sir," said Stowell, "that since I...."
"I think," said the Governor, "that the whole thing is unfortunate, damnably unfortunate, but since you are not responsible for the girl's crime, if she committed a crime at all, and knew nothing about it, and have no sympathy with it, you ought to go on doing your duty. Why shouldn't you? .... Interested? Of course you are interested. In a little community like this a Judge is nearly always interested. Isn't that what your Deemster's oath is intended to provide for?"
Stowell muttered something about being afraid, and again the Governor caught him up.
"Afraid? What are you afraid of? The public? Doesn't it occur to you that the only risk you run in that direction is not the risk of sitting on this case but of not sitting on it? There must be people who have seen you coming here this morning, and if you are not in Court on the appointed day, aren't they likely to ask why?"
"There's Gell...."
"Certainly there's Gell .... When the marriage was broken off you didn't tell him anything, did you?"
Stowell shook his head. "How could I?"
"Yes, how could you? And now he wishes you to sit, and, if you don't, isn't he likely to suspect the reason?"
"There .... there's Baldromma."