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Updated: June 22, 2025
I have had it translated, but if Mr. Pepperill prefers to have the interpreter read it " "Show it to the district attorney!" directed His Honor. Pepperill looked at it helplessly. "You may read your own translation," said the court drowsily. Mr. Tutt bowed, took up the paper and faced the jury. "This is the official record," he announced. "I will read it. "'In the name of God.
"I zay," suddenly exploded Zahoul "dees papaire eet half contemptuous article on ze menkaha zat dees Kasheed Hassoun not kill dees Sardi Babu!" "He says," translated Pepperill, "that the newspaper contains an indiscreet article in favor of the defense. I had no idea there would be any improper attempt to influence the jury." "What difference does it make, anyway?" inquired His Honor.
Well, old top, send for a couple of dozen Korans and hire rooms for the jury over Kaydoub, Salone & Dabut's and turn 'em loose on kibbah arnabeiah, kashtah and halawee." Mr. William Montague Pepperill was a very intense young person, twenty-six years old, out of Boston by Harvard College.
Tutt and Pepperill proceeded to select twelve gentlemen to pass upon the issue who had never been nearer to Syria than the Boardwalk at Atlantic City and who only with the utmost attention could make head or tail of what Mr. Salim Zahoul averred that the witnesses were trying to say.
There was everything the law required to send any murderer to the chair, and little Mr. Pepperill had a diagram made of the inside of the restaurant and a photograph of the outside of it, and stamped the indictment in purple ink: Ready for Trial. Contemporaneously Mr. Tutt was giving his final instructions to Mr.
Tutt sprang to his feet, wildly waving his arms: "I object; on the ground that what passed between husband and wife upon this subject must be regarded as confidential." "I will so rule," said Judge Witherspoon, smiling. "Excluded." Pepperill shrugged his shoulders. "I would like to ask a question," interpolated the editor of Baby's World. "Do!" exclaimed Tutt eagerly.
"That you recommend the acceptance of a plea of manslaughter in the second degree." Deputy Assistant District Attorney William Montague Pepperill drew himself up haughtily. He regarded all criminal practitioners as semicrooks, ignorant, illiterate, rather dirty men not in the real American class. "I can do nothing of the kind," he answered sternly and very distinctly.
"'And what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah? she asked Robbie Foote, and Robbie said: "'They were destroyed, Miss Pepperill. "Then she came to Sammy. 'What of Tyre, Sammy? she asked. "'Punctured, said Sammy, and got the whole class to laughing." "Oh, now, Aggie!" queried Ruth, doubtfully, "isn't that a joke?" "No more than Tess's story is a joke," giggled the plump girl.
There had been an aloof serenity about his life within the bulging front of the paternal residence with its ancient glass window panes faintly tinged with blue, just as the blood in the Pepperill veins was also faintly tinged with the same color his unimpeachable social position at Hoppy's and later on at Harvard which he pronounced Haavaad and the profound respect in which he was held at the law school in Cambridge, that gave Mr.
"Did you know that Andrew was a vicious dog?" inquired Tutt. "No!" answered Mrs. Appleboy firmly. "I didn't." O woman! "That is all," declared Tutt with a triumphant smile. "Then," snapped Pepperill, "why did you send for him?" "I was lonely," answered Bashemath unblushingly. "Do you mean to tell this jury that you didn't know that that dog was one of the worst biters in Livornia?"
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