"I did not. Lawrence sharped me; I suspected it last night, now I'm sure; but I shouldn't have killed him merely because he was too clever; at least, not like that. You're a poor judge of character if you suppose I should."
"I care nothing for you, or for your character. It's of her I'm thinking. She might have done it in a fit of temporary insanity."
"She might; but she didn't."
"Then what was the meaning of her conduct in his room just now?"
"You're a mental pathologist; you should know better than I."
"It's because I'm a mental pathologist that I—fear. Symonds suspects. I shouldn't be surprised if he arrests her within four and twenty hours. He'll hang her if he finds this cloak."
"Oh no, he won't. Nor, if Symonds is the idiot you suppose—he may be, since you're a judge of idiots—will she remain long under arrest. I shall free her."
Hume had been pacing up and down like an unquiet spirit. Now he stopped to snarl at me like an angry wolf.
"If you think brawn and muscle can prevail against the police you are a fool."
"As it happens I am not a fool on those particular lines, because I think nothing of the kind. I shall use other means to free her."
