friend, how she herself would have
regarded any woman who wanted to attend such an inquiry from a
simple, morbid feeling of curiosity. And yet--and yet that was
just what she was about to do herself.

"I've got a reason for wanting to go there," she murmured. It was
a comfort to unburden herself this little way even to a stranger.

"Ah!" he said reflectively. "A--a relative connected with one of
the two victims' husbands, I presume?"

And Mrs. Bunting bent her head.

"Going to give evidence?" he asked casually, and then he turned and
looked at Mrs. Bunting with far more attention than he had yet done.

"Oh, no!" There was a world of horror, of fear in the speaker's voice.

And the inspector felt concerned and sorry. "Hadn't seen her for
quite a long time, I suppose?"

"Never had, seen her. I'm from the country." Something impelled
Mrs. Bunting to say these words. But she hastily corrected herself,
"At least, I was."

"Will he be there?"

She looked at him dumbly; not in the least knowing to whom he was
alluding.

"I mean the husband," went on the inspector hastily. "I felt sorry
for the last poor chap--I mean the husband of the last one--he
seemed so awfully miserable. You see, she'd been a good wife and a
good mother till she took to the drink."

"It always is so," breathed out Mrs. Bunting.

"Aye." He waited a moment. "D'you know anyone about the court?" he
asked.

She shook her head.

"Well, don't you worry. I'll take you in along o' me. You'd never
get in by yourself."

They got out; and oh, the comfort of being in some one's charge, of
having a determined man in uniform to look after one! And yet even
now there was to Mrs. Bunting something dream-like, unsubstantial
about the whole business.

"If he knew--if he only knew what I know!" she kept saying over
and over again to herself as she walked lightly by the big, burly
form of the police inspector.

"'Tisn't far--not three minutes," he said suddenly. "Am I walking
too quick for you, ma'am?"'

"No, not at all. I'm a quick walker."

And then suddenly they turned a corner and came on a mass of people,
a densely packed crowd of men and women, staring at a mean-looking
little door sunk into a high wall.

"Better take my arm," the inspector suggested. "Make way there!
Make way!" he cried authoritatively; and he swept her through the
serried ranks which parted at the sound of his voice, at the sight
of his uniform.

"Lucky you met me," he s