Timms had reflected a great deal on the character of the defence it might be most prudent to get up and enlarge on. Insanity had been worn out by too much use of late; and he scarce gave that plea a second thought. This particular means of defence had been discussed between him and Dunscomb, it is true; but each of the counsel felt a strong repugnance against resorting to it; the one on account of his indisposition to rely on anything but the truth; the other, to use his own mode of expressing himself on the occasion in question, because he “believed that jurors could no longer be humbugged with that plea. There have been all sorts of madmen and madwomen—” “Gentlemen and lady murderers”—put in Dunscomb, drily. “I ask your pardon, ’Squire; but, since you give me the use of my nose, I will offend as little as possible with the tongue—though, I rather conclude”—a form of expression much in favour with Timms—“that should our verdict be ‘guilty,’ you will be disposed to allow there may be one lady criminal in the world.” “She is a most extraordinary creature, Timms; bothers me more than any client I ever had!” “Indeed! Waal, I had set her down as just the contrary—for to me she seems to be as unconcerned as if the wise four-and-twenty had not presented her to justice in the name of the people.” “It is not in that sense that I am bothered—no client ever gave counsel less trouble than Mary Monson in that respect. To me, Timms, she does not appear to have any concern in reference to the result.” “Supreme innocence, or a well-practised experience. I have defended many a person whom I knew to be guilty, and two or three whom I believed to be innocent; but never before had as cool a client as this!”