So ended the great Berkeley Street Murder Trial, and when a few days later it was announced that the sentence of death had been commuted to one of penal servitude for life, there were newspapers and people who hinted at mistaken leniency and suggested that James Meredith would have been hanged if he were a poor man instead of being, as he was, the master of vast wealth. "That's that," said Jack Glover between his teeth, as he came out of court with the eminent King's Counsel who had defended his friend and client, "the little lady wins." His companion looked sideways at him and smiled. "Honestly, Glover, do you believe that poor girl could do so dastardly a thing as lie about the man she loves?" "She loves!" repeated Jack Glover witheringly. "I think you are prejudiced," said the counsel, shaking his head. "Personally, I believe that Meredith is a lunatic; I am satisfied that all he told us about the interview he had with the girl was born of a diseased imagination. I was terribly impressed when I saw Jean Briggerland in the box. She--by Jove, there is the lady!" They had reached the entrance of the Court. A big car was standing by the kerb and one of the attendants was holding open the door for a girl dressed in black. They had a glimpse of a pale, sad face of extraordinary beauty, and then she disappeared behind the drawn blinds. The counsel drew a long sigh. "Mad!" he said huskily. "He must be mad! If ever I saw a pure soul in a woman's face, it is in hers!" "You've been in the sun, Sir John--you're getting sentimental," said Jack Glover brutally, and the eminent lawyer choked indignantly. Jack Glover had a trick of saying rude things to his friends, even when those friends were twenty years his senior, and by every rule of professional etiquette entitled to respectful treatment. "Really!" said the outraged Sir John. "There are times, Glover, when you are insufferable!" But by this time Jack Glover was swinging along the Old Bailey, his hands in his pockets, his silk hat on the back of his head. He found the grey-haired senior member of the firm of Rennett, Glover and Simpson (there had been no Simpson in the firm for ten years) on the point of going home. Mr. Rennett sat down at the sight of his junior. "I heard the news by 'phone," he said. "Ellbery says there is no ground for appeal, but I think the recommendation to mercy will save his life--besides it is a _crime passionelle_, and they don't hang for homicidal jealousy. I suppose it was the girl's evidence that turned the trick?" Jack nodded. "And she looked like an angel just out of the refrigerator," he said despairingly. "Ellbery did his poor best to shake her, but the old fool is half in love with her--I left him raving about her pure soul and her other celestial etceteras." Mr. Rennett stroked his iron grey beard. "She's won," he said, but the other turned on him with a snarl.