He had bought magazines and the literary papers for his journey, but he
could concentrate his mind on nothing, and only the exigencies of
railway travelling kept him off his legs. Luckily for Langholm, however,
sleep came to him when least expected, in his cool corner of the
corridor train, and he only awoke in time for luncheon before the
change at York. His tired brain was vastly refreshed, but so far he
could not concentrate it, even on the events of these eventful days. He
was still in the thick of them. A sense of proportion was as yet
impossible, and a consecutive review the most difficult of intellectual
feats. Langholm was too excited, and the situation too identical with
suspense, for a clear sight of all its bearings and potentialities; and
then there was the stern self-discipline, the determined bridling of the
imagination, in which he had not yet relaxed. Once in the night,
however, in the hopeless hours between darkness and broad day, he had
seen clearly for a while, and there and then pinned his vision down to
paper. It concerned only one aspect of the case, but this was how
Langholm found that he had stated it, on taking out his pocket-book
during the final stages of his journey--
PROVISIONAL CASE AGAINST ---- ---- ----
1.
Pages:
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291