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with about the same mental effort, say, as a man washing his hands or tying his neckcloth."
The globe was perfectly blue. Mallin had given up trying to lie; he was simply gushing out everything he thought.
Leonard Kellogg slumped forward, his head buried in his elbows on the table, and misery washed over him in tides.
I am a murderer; I killed a person. Only a funny little person with fur, but she was a person, and I knew it when I killed her, I knew it when I saw that little grave out in the woods, and they'll put me in that chair and make me admit it to everybody, and then they'll take me out in the jail yard and somebody will shoot me through the head with a pistol, and—
And all the poor little thing wanted was to show me her new jingle!
"Does anybody want to ask the witness any questions?" the Chief Justice was asking.
"I don't," Captain Greibenfeld said. "Do you, Lieutenant?"
"No, I don't think so," Lieutenant Ybarra said. "Dr. Mallin's given us a very lucid statement of his opinions."
He had, at that, after he'd decided he couldn't beat the veridicator. Jack found himself sympathizing with Mallin. He'd disliked the man from the first, but he looked different now—sort of cleaned and washed out inside. Maybe everybody ought to be veridicated, now and then, to teach them that honesty begins with honesty to self.
"Mr. Coombes?" Mr. Coombes looked as though he never wanted to ask another witness another question as long as he lived. "Mr. Brannhard?"
Gus got up, holding a sapient member of a sapient race who was hanging onto his beard, and thanked Ernst Mallin fulsomely.
"In that case, we'll adjourn until o-nine-hundred tomorrow. Mr. Coombes, I have here a check on the chartered Zarathustra Company for twenty-five thousand sols. I am returning it to you and I am canceling Dr. Kellogg's bail," Judge Pendarvis said, as a couple of attendants began getting Mallin loose from the veridicator.
"Are you also canceling Jack Holloway's?"
"No, and I would advise you not to make an issue of it,
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