When I telephoned Thomassy that morning in March ~1974 and<br >asked him to lunch， I counseled mysdf to muster a casual voice. As I<br >waited for him to get on the line， I thought the protections are gone. I<br >had rductantly perceived that civil and well-educated people now ac-<br >cepted gratuitous violence against strangers as ordinary. Therefore I<br >had to conclude that George Thomassy had chosen an appropriate pro-<br > fession in criminal law and I had not.<br > Thomassy misinterpreted my casualness. He was preparing for trial，<br > said， and wasn t taking time for restaurant lunches.<br > he"I wouldn t mind joining you for a sandwich in your office，" I said，<br > hoping my insistence wouldn t seem pushy.<br > Thomassy said absolutdy nothing. It wasn t ill breeding. I took it to<br > be a technique for extracting the most information without the com-<br > mitment of even an acknowledging word.<br > "George，" I went on， "I wouldn t trouble you about something triv-<br > ial. It s about a case."<br > "Yours?"<br > I realized he thought that I had run int.o a r~oncivil aspect of some<br > client s case and was seeking his advice.<br ><br ><br >