ttention on parade. A pale profile, broken by a line of black
moustache, was all "Westminister" could see of that impassive face,
whose eyes, fixed on the magistrate, alone betrayed the fires within.
The violent trembling of the seamstress roused in Joshua Creed a certain
irritation, and seeing the baby open his black eyes, he nudged her,
whispering: "Ye've woke the baby!"

Responding to words, which alone perhaps could have moved her at such
a moment, Mrs. Hughs rocked this dumb spectator of the drama. Again the
old butler nudged her.

"They want yer in the box," he said.

Mrs. Hughs rose, and took her place.

He who wished to read the hearts of this husband and wife who stood at
right angles, to have their wounds healed by Law, would have needed to
have watched the hundred thousand hours of their wedded life, known and
heard the million thoughts and words which had passed in the dim spaces
of their world, to have been cognisant of the million reasons why they
neither of them felt that they could have done other than they had done.
Reading their hearts by the light of knowledge such as this, he would
not have been surprised that, brought into this place of remedy, they
seemed to enter into a sudden league. A look passed between them. It
was not friendly, it had no appeal; but it sufficed. There seemed to
be expressed in it the knowledge bred by immemorial experience and
immemorial time: This law before which we stand was not made by us! As
dogs, when they hear the crack of a far whip, will shrink, and in their
whole bearing show wary quietude, so Hughs and Mrs. Hughs, confronted by
the questionings of Law, made only such answers as could be dragged from
them. In a voice hardly above a whisper Mrs. Hughs told her tale. They
had fallen out. What about? She did not know. Had he attacked her? He
had had it in his hand. What then? She had slipped, and hurt her wrist
against the point. At this statement Hughs turned his eyes on her, and
seemed to say: "You drove me to it; I've got to suffer, for all your
trying to get me out of what I've done. I gave you one, and I don't
want your help. But I'm glad you stick to me against this Law!" Then,
lowering his eyes, he stood motionless during her breathless little
outburst. He was her husband; she had borne him five; he had been
wounded in the war. She had never wanted him brought here.

No mention of the little model....

The old butler dwelt on this reticence of Mrs. Hughs,