"But it seems a pity for the poor innocent Irishman to have to stay in
jail. How good of him to consent!" exclaimed Mrs. Marable pathetically.
The sheriff was all unacclimated to the suave altruism of fashionable
circles. His literal eyebrows went up to an angle of forty-five degrees;
he turned his belittling eyes on Mrs. Marable, as if she were a very
inconsiderable species of wren, suddenly developing a capacity for
disproportionate mischief. "Not at all, madam," he made haste to say. "He
can be legally held for a witness, lest he get away and out of reach of a
subpoena. It is the right of the State, and of Mrs. Briscoe as well,
who will doubtless join the public prosecution. We are asking nothing of
nobody, and taking nothing off nobody, neither."
"But I should like," said Lillian, "to arrange that he shall suffer no
hardship. I shall be happy to defray any expense to make him thoroughly
comfortable."
The sheriff looked down on feminine intelligence. The law was exclusively
man's affair.
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