When Mallalieu was brought there, a moment later, the two exchanged one swift glance and no more--Cotherstone immediately moved off to the far corner on the left hand, Mallalieu remained in the opposite one, and placing his hands in the pockets of his overcoat, he squared his shoulders and straitened his big frame and took a calm and apparently contemptuous look round about him.
Brereton, sitting at a corner of the solicitor's table, and having nothing to do but play the part of spectator, watched these two men carefully and with absorbed interest from first to last.

He was soon aware of the vastly different feelings with which they themselves watched the proceedings.

Cotherstone was eager and restless; he could not keep still; he moved his position; he glanced about him; he looked as if he were on the verge of bursting into indignant or explanatory speech every now and then--though, as a matter of fact, he restrained whatever instinct he had in that direction.

But Mallalieu never moved, never changed his attitude.

His expression of disdainful, contemptuous watchfulness never left him--after the first moments and the formalities were over, he kept his eyes on the witness-box and on the people who entered it.