A fuss of lawyers' people coming, going,
The windows shut, the gas alight in globes,
Evening outside, and pleasant weather blowing.
'They'll hang him?' 'I suppose so; there's no knowing.'
'A pretty piece, the woman, ain't she, John?
He killed the fellow just for carrying on.'
'She give her piece to counsel pretty clear.'
'Ah, that she did, and when she stop she smiled.'
'She's had a-many men, that pretty dear;
She's drove a-many pretty fellows wild.'