ogance of the thing took 'em all ends
up and had 'em speechless. She was there by Sabre and stooping over him,
mothering him, before Buddha or any of 'em could have found the wits to
say what his own name was. Let alone the Iscariot.

"Matter of fact Sabre was the first one to speak. He threw up his arm
from where he'd been covering his face, just as he'd thrown it up when I
called out, and swung her hands aside and called out, 'Don't touch me.
Let me alone. Leave me alone.'

"She motioned to the man beside him, and the chap got up as if her
motion had been Circe's and disappeared. Through the roof or somewhere.
I don't know. Anyway, he vanished. And she took his place and sat down
beside Sabre and poor old Sabre crouched away from her as if he was
stung, and old Buddha, reaching out for his dignity, said, 'You may
remain there, madam, if you do not interrupt the court.'

"There wasn't much more to interrupt. Twyning had had about as much as
he wanted; he'd done what he was out to do, anyway. The case finished.
The coroner had a go at the jury. They went out. I suppose they were
gone ten minutes. Shuffled in again. Gave their verdict. I was watching
Sabre. He took down his hands from his face and stared with all the
world's agony in his face, straining himself forward to hear. Verdict.
They found suicide while temporarily insane and added their most severe
censure of the conduct of the witness Sabre. He jumped up and flung out
his hands. 'Look here--Look here--Censure! Censure! Cens--!'

"Dropped back on his seat like he was shot. Twisted himself up. Sat
rocking.

"Court cleared in less than no time. Me left in my corner. This Lady
Tybar. Sabre, twisted up. Bobby or two. I began to come forward. Sabre
looks up. Looks round. Gets his hat. Collects his old stick. Starts to
hobble out.

"This Lady Tybar gets in front of him, me alongside of her by then.
'Marko, Marko.' (That was what she called him.) He sort of pushes at her
and at me: 'Let me alone. Let me alone. Get right away from me.' Hobbles
away down the room.

"A bobby stops him. 'Better go this way, sir. Rough lot of people out
there.' Leads him to a side door.

"We followed him up, she and I. Door gave on to a lane running up into
the Penny Green road. She tried at him again, gently, very tenderly,
'Marko, Marko, dear.' Would have made your heart squirm. I tried at him:
'Now then, old man.' Swung round on us. 'Let me alone. Get away. Get
right away from