When Susannah told the corporal the misadventure of the sash, with all the circumstances which attended the murder of me,⁠—(as she called it)⁠—the blood forsook his cheeks,⁠—all accessaries in murder being principals,⁠—Trim’s conscience told him he was as much to blame as Susannah,⁠—and if the doctrine had been true, my uncle Toby had as much of the bloodshed to answer for to heaven, as either of ’em;⁠—so that neither reason or instinct, separate or together, could possibly have guided Susannah’s steps to so proper an asylum. It is in vain to leave this to the Reader’s imagination:⁠—to form any kind of hypothesis that will render these propositions feasible, he must cudgel his brains sore,⁠—and to do it without,⁠—he must have such brains as no reader ever had before him.⁠⸺⁠Why should I put them either to trial or to torture? ’Tis my own affair: I’ll explain it myself.