Many people there--his friends, mostly--believed that Errington was doomed.

I think he thought so, too, for I could see that his face was terribly white, and he now and then passed his tongue over his lips, as if they were parched.
"You see he was in the awful dilemma--a perfectly natural one, by the way--of being absolutely incapable of _proving_ an _alibi_.

The crime--if crime there was--had been committed three weeks ago.

A man about town like Mr.Frank Errington might remember that he spent certain hours of a special afternoon at his club, or in the Park, but it is very doubtful in nine cases out of ten if he can find a friend who could positively swear as to having seen him there.

No! no! Mr.Errington was in a tight corner, and he knew it.