ear to this crowded court,
but it was very far away too, as far as heaven is from hell. It would be
good, presently, to go back to it.

Chime after chime dropped down frostily into the almost rancid heat of
the court. Time was sending its warning that night was coming to London.

An epidemic of fidgeting and of coughing seized the crowd, which was
evidently beginning to feel the stinging whip of an intense irritation.

"What on earth," said the voice of a man, expressing the thought which
bound all these brains together, "what on earth can the jury be up to?"

Surely by now everything for and against Mrs. Clarke must have been
discussed _ad nauseam_. Only the vainest of repetitions could be
occupying the time of the jury. People began positively to hate those
twelve uninteresting men, torn from their dull occupations to decide a
woman's fate. Even Mrs. Chetwinde showed vexation.

"This is really becoming ridiculous," she murmured. "Even twelve fools
should know when to give their folly a rest."

"I suppose there must be one or two holding out against all argument and
persuasion. Don't you think so?" said Dion, almost morosely.

"I dare say. I know a great deal about individual fools, but very little
about them in dozens. The heat is becoming unbearable."

She sighed deeply and moved in her seat, opening and shutting her fan.

"She must be enduring torment," muttered Dion.

"Yes; even Cynthia can hardly be proof against this intolerable delay."

Another dropping down of chimes: eight o'clock! A long murmur went
through the crowd. Some one said: "They're coming at last."

Every one moved. Instinctively Dion leant forward to look at Mrs.
Clarke. He felt very much excited and nervous, almost as if his own fate
were about to be decided. As he looked he saw Mrs. Clarke draw herself
up till she seemed taller than usual. She had a pair of gloves in
her lap, and she now began to pull one of these gloves on, slowly and
carefully, as if she were thinking about what she was doing. The jury
filed in looking feverish, irritable and battered. Three or four of them
showed piteous and injured expressions. Two others had the peculiar look
of obstinate men who have been giving free rein to their vice, indulging
in an orgy of what they call willpower. Their faces were, at the same
time, implacable and ridiculous, but they walked impressively. The Judge
was sent for. Two or three minutes elapsed before he came in. During
those m