of the girls." He looked toward Demarest for acquiescence.

The lawyer's brows were knit as he faced the proprietor of the
store.

"Funny thing, this case!" he ejaculated. "In some features, one
of the most unusual I have seen since I have been practicing
law."

The smug contentment abode still on Gilder's face as he puffed in
leisurely ease on his cigar and uttered a trite condolence.

"Very sad!--quite so! Very sad case, I call it." Demarest went
on speaking, with a show of feeling: "Most unusual case, in my
estimation. You see, the girl keeps on declaring her innocence.
That, of course, is common enough in a way. But here, it's
different. The point is, somehow, she makes her protestations
more convincing than they usually do. They ring true, as it
seems to me."

Gilder smiled tolerantly.

"They didn't ring very true to the jury, it would seem," he
retorted. And his voice was tart as he added: "Nor to the judge,
since he deemed it his duty to give her three years."

"Some persons are not very sensitive to impressions in such
cases, I admit," Demarest returned, coolly. If he meant any
subtlety of allusion to his hearer, it failed wholly to pierce
the armor of complacency.