Gerard did not know whether to be amazed, disgusted, or amused. This brazen attitude might either be considered shocking, perplexing, or simply whimsical, as one chose to look at it. He looked down, and when he raised his head again, after being lost in thought for a few moments, he fancied he surprised upon Miss Davison’s beautiful face a sort of wistful look, as if she was sorry and ashamed of the attitude she had to take up, or at least that was the fancy that came into his head about it. He dashed into his narrative abruptly when their eyes met. “A woman was caught in the act of stealing something, I believe,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, but meeting with no shrinking in return; “and I learn that she is an old offender. A smartly dressed woman who goes about to the best shops, and is well-known, but whom, as I gathered, they’ve not been able to catch before.” “And have they caught her now?” asked Miss Davison innocently. He stammered and grew red. “They--they seemed to think so,” he said, in a voice that was not steady. “Did you see her?” “If I did it was without knowing that she was a shop-lifter,” said he. “Kleptomaniac, they call that sort of woman nowadays,” observed Miss Davison lightly. “She will get off, depend upon it. Some old doctor will swear to her being in ill health and not responsible for her actions. Oh, that’s what they always say.” Gerard remembered the man with the black beard and the gold-rimmed spectacles, and sat back reflectively. Was Miss Davison merely relating what had already happened? Had she waited calmly while they went for a doctor, and had he then examined her and at once pronounced her as wanting in balance and not responsible for her actions? It seemed like it. “But they say she has done it before!” “And got off before in the same way, no doubt,” said Miss Davison quietly. “Watch the papers for the next few days, and you will find nothing about the case, I’ll answer for it.” “Did they tell you so at the stores?” asked he dryly, and with emphasis which he did not try to hide. “I know by what I have seen before of these cases,” she replied evasively. “It doesn’t do any good to the shops to have these things known, because there’s always some sort of doubt thrown upon the case by the other side and people are led to believe that there’s been undue harshness in pressing the charge.” Gerard listened in confusion. Had she reckoned upon these things, and so felt sure that she would escape the disgrace of arrest, trial, and conviction? “Are they unduly harsh in this case?” he asked.