“Trial’ll probably be Monday. You can keep him one night, can’t you?
I don’t think anybody in Maycomb’ll begrudge me a client, with times this hard.”
There was a murmur of glee that died suddenly when Mr. Link Deas said, “Nobody around here’s up to anything,
it’s that Old Sarum bunch I’m worried about… can’t you get a—what is it, Heck?”
“Change of venue,” said Mr. Tate. “Not much point in that, now is it?” Atticus said something inaudible.
I turned to Jem, who waved me to silence. “—besides,” Atticus was saying, “you’re not scared of that crowd, are you?”
“…know how they do when they get shinnied up.” “They don’t usually drink on Sunday, they go to church most of the day…” Atticus said.
This is a special occasion, though…” someone said.
They murmured and buzzed until Aunty said if Jem didn’t turn on the livingroom lights he would disgrace the family.
Jem didn’t hear her.—don’t see why you touched it in the first place,” Mr. Link Deas was saying.
You’ve got everything to lose from this, Atticus. I mean everything.“Do you really think so?”
This was Atticus’s dangerous question. “Do you really think you want to move there, Scout?”
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