She threw back the
obscuring veil and showed him the face of one of the most beautiful women
in London.
There was an instant's pause before he said.
"Yes, I recognise you, of course. And--you wanted to consult me?"
"No!" She leaned forward in her chair with white hands clasped. "I wanted
to beg you to tell me--why you have refused to undertake Burleigh
Wentworth's defence!"
She spoke with a breathless intensity. Her wonderful eyes were lifted to
his--eyes that had dazzled half London, but Field only looked down into
them as he might have regarded one of his legal documents. A slight,
peculiar smile just touched his lips as he made reply.
"I have no objection to telling you, Lady Violet. He is guilty. That is
why."
"Ah!" It was a sound like the snapped string of an instrument. Her
fingers gripped each other. "So you think that too! Indeed--indeed, you
are wrong! But--is that your only reason?"
"Isn't it a sufficient one?" he said.
Her fingers writhed and strained against each other. "Do you mean that it
is--against your principles?" she said.
"To defend a guilty man?" questioned the barrister slowly.
She nodded two or three times as if for the moment utterance were beyond
her.
Field's eyes had not stirred from her face, yet still they had that legal
look as if he searched for some hidden information.
"No," he said finally. "It is not entirely a matter of principle.
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