"You've followed the trial, haven't you?" Mr. Hurd demanded. "What
d'you think of the case?"
I murmured apologetically that I thought Mrs. Brandow was innocent,
and the remark produced exactly the effect I had expected. My chief
gave me one look of unutterable scorn and settled back in his chair.
"Great Scott!" he groaned. "So you've joined the sobbing sisterhood at
last! I wouldn't have believed it. 'S Iverson"--his voice changed, he
brought his hand down on the desk with a force that made the
ink-bottle rock--"that woman's as guilty as--as--"
I reminded him that the evidence against Mrs. Brandow was purely
circumstantial.
"Circumstantial? 'Course it's circumstantial!" yelped Hurd. "She's too
clever to let it be anything else. She has hidden every track. She's
the slickest proposition we've had up for murder in this state, and
she's young, pretty, of good family--so she'll probably get off. But
she killed her husband as surely as you stand there, and the fact that
he was a brute and deserved what he got doesn't make her any less
guilty of his murder."
It was a long speech for Mr. Hurd. He seemed surprised by it himself,
and stopped to glare at me as if I were to blame for the effort it had
caused him.
"You know Davies, her lawyer, don't you?" he asked, more quietly.