I have made up my mind that I will defend no man in future unless I am convinced of his innocence." "That means--" "It means practically the end of my career at the bar," Francis admitted.

"I realise that absolutely: Fortunately, as you know, I am not dependent upon my earnings, and I have had a wonderful ten years." "This is all because of the Hilditch affair, I suppose ?" "Entirely." Wilmore was still a little puzzled.
"You seem to imagine that you have something on your conscience as regards that business," he said boldly.
"I have," was the calm reply.
"Come," Wilmore protested, "I don't quite follow your line of thought.
Granted that Hilditch was a desperate criminal whom by the exercise of your special gifts you saved from the law, surely his tragic death balanced the account between you and Society ?" "It might have done," Francis admitted, "if he had really committed suicide." Wilmore was genuinely startled.

He looked at his companion curiously.
"What the devil do you mean, old chap ?" he demanded.

"Your own evidence at the inquest was practically conclusive as to that." Francis glanced around him with apparent indifference but in reality with keen and stealthy care.

On their right was a glass division, through which the sound of their voices could not possibly penetrate.
On their left was an empty space, and a table beyond was occupied by a well-known cinema magnate engaged in testing the attractions in daily life of a would-be film star.