"
This base conspiracy was successful, and that was the reason Frank
was so sulky on that harvest morning.
He was meditating vengeance. Love and hate, matrimony and murder,
are sometimes not far asunder, but Frank was not by nature vengeful;
he had that "foolish hanging of the nether lip which shows a lack of
decision."
I would not advise any man to seek in a law court a sovereign remedy
for the wounds inflicted by the shafts of Cupid; but Frank tried it.
During his examination in chief his mien was gloomy and his answers
brief.
Then Mr. Aspinall rose and said: "I appear for the defendant, your
Honour, but from press of other engagements I have been unable to
give that attention to the legal aspects of this case which its
importance demands, and I have to request that your Honour will be
good enough to adjourn the court for a quarter of an hour."
The court was adjourned for half an hour, and Mr. Aspinall and his
solicitor retired to a room for a legal consultation. It began thus:
"I say, Lane, fetch me a nobbler of brandy; a stiffener, mind."
Lane fetched the stiffener in a soda-water bottle, and it cleared the
legal atmosphere.
When the court resumed business, Frank took his stand in the witness
box, and a voice said: "Now, Mr. Barlow, look at me."
Frank had been called many names in his time, but never "Mr.
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