"The judge and the jury found no fault with the evidence."Demarest realized that this advocacy in behalf of the girl was hardly fitting on the part of the legal representative of the store she was supposed to have robbed, so he abruptly changed his line of argument.
"She says that her record of five years in your employ ought to count something in her favor."Gilder, however, was not disposed to be sympathetic as to a matter so flagrantly opposed to his interests.
"A court of justice has decreed her guilty," he asserted once again, in his ponderous manner.His emphasis indicated that there the affair ended.
Demarest smiled cynically as he strode to and fro.
"Nowadays," he shot out, "we don't call them courts of justice:
we call them courts of law."
Gilder yielded only a rather dubious smile over the quip.This much he felt that he could afford, since those same courts served his personal purposes well in deed.
"Anyway," he declared, becoming genial again, "it's out of our hands.There's nothing we can do, now.""Why, as to that," the lawyer replied, with a hint of hesitation, "I am not so sure.You see, the fact of the matter is that, though I helped to prosecute the case, I am not a little bit proud of the verdict."Gilder raised his eyebrows in unfeigned astonishment.Even yet, he was quite without appreciation of the attorney's feeling in reference to the conduct of the case.
"Why?" he questioned, sharply.
"Because," the lawyer said, again halting directly before the desk, "in spite of all the evidence against her, I am not sure that Mary Turner is guilty--far from it, in fact!"Gilder uttered an ejaculation of contempt, but Demarest went on resolutely.
"Anyhow," he explained, "the girl wants to see you, and I wish to urge you to grant her an interview."Gilder flared at this suggestion, and scowled wrathfully on the lawyer, who, perhaps with professional prudence, had turned away in his rapid pacing of the room.
"What's the use?" Gilder stormed.A latent hardness revealed itself at the prospect of such a visitation.And along with this hardness came another singular revelation of the nature of the man.For there was consternation in his voice, as he continued in vehement expostulation against the idea.If there was harshness in his attitude there was, too, a fugitive suggestion of tenderness alarmed over the prospect of undergoing such an interview with a woman.
"I can't have her crying all over the office and begging for mercy," he protested, truculently.But a note of fear lay under the petulance.
Demarest's answer was given with assurance""You are mistaken about that.The girl doesn't beg for mercy.
In fact, that's the whole point of the matter.She demands justice--strange as that may seem, in a court of law!--and nothing else.The truth is, she's a very unusual girl, a long way beyond the ordinary sales-girl, both in brains and in education.""The less reason, then, for her being a thief," Gilder grumbled in his heaviest voice.
"And perhaps the less reason for believing her to be a thief,"the lawyer retorted, suavely.He paused for a moment, then went on.There was a tone of sincere determination in his voice.
