"Your Honour," I said to Goldberger, "it seems that an effort is to be
made to incriminate Mr. Swain in this affair, and he should therefore
be represented by counsel. I myself intend to represent him, and I ask
for an hour's adjournment in order to consult with my client."
Goldberger glanced at his watch.
"I intended to adjourn for lunch," he said, "as soon as I had finished
with Mr. Sylvester. We will adjourn now, if you wish--until
one-thirty," he added.
The battery of cameras was clicking at Swain, and two or three artists
were making sketches of his head; there was a great bustle as the
reporters gathered up their papers and hurried to their cars to search
for the nearest telephone; the jury walked heavily away in charge of
an officer to get their lunch at some near-by road-house; Sylvester
was gathering up his prints and photographs and putting them carefully
in his pocket; Simmonds was replacing the blood-stained clothing in
the suit-case, to be held as evidence for the trial; but Swain sat
there, with arms folded, staring straight before him, apparently
unconscious of all this.
Goldberger looked at him closely, as he came down to speak to me, but
Swain did not glance up.
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