Here was an end to the likeliest theory that he had evolved that morning among his roses.

Steel had not married his wife in ignorance of her life's tragedy; he had been present, and probably fallen in love with her, at her trial! Then why did he never behave as though he were in love?
And why must he expatiate upon the judge's kindness to the female witnesses, instead of on the grand result of the trial over which he had presided?
Did Steel himself entertain the faintest doubt about the innocence of his wife, whose trial he had heard, and whom he had married thereafter within a few months at the most?
Langholm's brain buzzed, even while he listened to what Hugh Woodgate was saying.
"I am not surprised," remarked the vicar.

"I remember once hearing that Sir Baldwin Gibson and Lord Edgeware were the two fairest judges on the bench; and why, do you suppose?
Because they are both old athletes and Old Blues, trained from small boys to give their opponents every possible chance!" Steel nodded an understanding assent.

Langholm, however, who was better qualified to appreciate the vicar's point, took no notice of it.
"If it was not the judge," said he, "who in the world is it who has sprung this mine, I saw them meet, and as a matter of fact I did guess the truth.

But I had special reasons.