Gilmore kept his place at the lawyer's elbow. For a moment there was silence between them, and then Gilmore said:
"You got away from McBride's in a hurry Saturday; why didn't you wait and see the finish?"
Langham made no answer to this, and Gilmore, after another brief silence, turned on him with an unexpected question:
"How would you like to be in North's shoes, Marsh?" As he spoke, the gambler rested a hand on Langham's shoulder. He felt him shrink from the physical contact. "Gives you a chill just to think of it, doesn't it?" he said. "I suppose Moxlow believes there's the making of a pretty strong case against him; eh, Marsh?"
"I don't know; I can't tell what he thinks," said Langham briefly.
"But in North's place, back there in the jail in one of those brand-new iron cages over the yard, how would you feel? That's what I want to know!"
Langham met his glance for an instant and then his eyes fell. He sensed the insinuation that was back of Gilmore's words.
"Can't you put yourself in his place, with the evidence, such as it is, all setting against you?"
"I'm due at the office," said the lawyer suddenly.
Gilmore took his arm.