“And then—well, let’s call him Sir Edward Shoreham, joined us. He was on the Bench—a judge, which makes the disguise of a false name pretty thin, especially in view of what is to come. I remember he had recently taken a murder case—one that had aroused a good deal of popular attention—and the prisoner had been found guilty. We were talking about it at the time Sir Edward arrived, with Violet, as usual, tilting lances against every form of authority.
“I can see her now as she turned to Sir Edward with a sort of dreadful fascination on her face.
“ ‘And so you sentenced him to death?’
“He nodded gravely. ‘Certainly,’ he answered. ‘He was guilty.’
“And then she turned half-away, speaking almost under her breath.
“ ‘And doesn’t it ever appall you? Make you wake in the middle of the night, with your mouth dry and your throat parched. All this—life, love—and in a cell, a man waiting—a man you’ve sent there. Ticking off the days on his nerveless fingers—staring out at the sun. My God! it would drive me mad.’
“Ned Shoreham smiled a little grimly.
“ ‘You seem to forget one unimportant factor,’ he answered; ‘the wretched woman that man killed.’
“ ‘No, I don’t,’ she cried. ‘But the punishment is so immeasurably worse than the crime. I don’t think death would matter if it came suddenly; but to sit waiting with a sort of sickening helplessness——’
“It was then Ruth Granger joined us. Some woman was singing in the reception-room and, for the moment, she was free from her duties as hostess.