Tell him there's been an accident and Mr. Hammond's dead.
He tried to make love to me and I shot him.
The boys take such good care of us. Funny the head boy running off tonight.
Poor Robert, he doesn't deserve it. He's never hurt anyone in his life. He's so good and simple and kind and he trusts me so. I mean everything, everything in the world to him. It's gonna ruin his life. Oh, I know what you're thinking. You despise me.
I wonder why your story never wavers from exactly the same words. It suggests either that you have an extraordinary memory...or you're telling the plain, unvarnished truth.
I wasn't thinking of the money. I don't know if you'll understand this, but I've always looked on myself as an honest man. You're asking me to do something which is no better than suborning a witness...A lawyer has a duty to his profession and to himself.
Tell your friend to go to the devil...Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money, Ong, just to save some trouble.
It seems that Leslie wrote a letter to Hammond asking him to come to the bungalow on the night he was killed...She wanted his advice on something she was buying for your birthday...In the excitement, she forgot about the letter and then later on was afraid to say she made a mistake...This was a pretty serious mistake and she realized it....she (Hammond's widow) threatens to turn it over to the prosecution...Don't you see, Bob, that it might alter things a good deal in the minds of the jury if Hammond came to your house by invitation....I think we must get hold of that letter...I don't think it's right but I think it's expedient. Juries can sometimes be very stupid and it's just as well not to worry them with more evidence than they can conveniently deal with.
Maybe it's my own sense of guilt, but I have an unpleasant feeling that I'm gonna be made to pay the piper for what I'm doing tonight. I'm jeopardizing my whole career and I have to rely on your discretion.
No complicating motives, no possible pre-meditation. The jury is aware of the facts. And I'm convinced, gentlemen, there's no need for eloquence. If ever there was a simple, uncomplicated case, it's this one. Mrs. Crosbie killed a man, yes, but under circumstances where no courageous, self-respecting woman would hesitate for one instant to do the same thing. Nor is there need for me to extol Mrs. Crosbie's account. Her own testimony in the witness box, her bearing throughout this ordeal, stamped the character of this remarkable woman, more than any words of mine could possibly do. As for the prosecution's case, not one whit of evidence has been produced to refute the defendant's testimony. No, because such evidence couldn't exist in the light of truth. Gentlemen, in full faith and confidence, I place Leslie Crosbie's fate in your hands in the sure knowledge that justice will be done.
You've been the best wife a man could have...I've always loved you...Leslie, darling, if I could love you any more, I would now.
I always wanted a fine plantation, one that I could work for myself and for my family. This is the one I've been waiting for. They'll be the two of us, but my wife's a good sport. I always can count on her. She's not afraid of anything. And we'll have each other. That's the important thing, isn't it?