Demarest realized that this advocacy in behalf of the girl was hardly fitting on the part of the legal representative of the store she was supposed to have robbed, so he abruptly changed his line of argument.
“She says that her record of five years in your employ ought to count something in her favor.”
Gilder, however, was not disposed to be sympathetic as to a matter so flagrantly opposed to his interests.
“A court of justice has decreed her guilty,” he asserted once again, in his ponderous manner. His emphasis indicated that there the affair ended.
Demarest smiled cynically as he strode to and fro.
“Nowadays,” he shot out, “we don't call them courts of justice: we call them courts of law.”
Gilder yielded only a rather dubious smile over the quip. This much he felt that he could afford, since those same courts served his personal purposes well in deed.
“Anyway,” he declared, becoming genial again, “it's out of our hands. There's nothing we can do, now.”
“Why, as to that,” the lawyer replied, with a hint of hesitation, “I am not so sure. You see, the fact of the matter is that, though I helped to prosecute the case, I am not a little bit proud of the verdict.”
Gilder raised his eyebrows in unfeigned astonishment. Even yet, he was quite without appreciation of the attorney's feeling in reference to the conduct of the case.