He was a very respectable-looking man, a foreman in a big business house at Croydon.
He seemed to feel his position most acutely.

He hadn't seen his wife for two years; he hadn't had news of her for six months.

Before she took to drink she had been an admirable wife, and--and yes, mother.
Yet another painful few minutes, to anyone who had a heart, or imagination to understand, was spent when the father of the murdered woman was in the box.

He had had later news of his unfortunate daughter than her husband had had, but of course he could throw no light at all on her murder or murderer.
A barman, who had served both the women with drink just before the public-house closed for the night, was handled rather roughly.

He had stepped with a jaunty air into the box, and came out of it looking cast down, uneasy.
And then there took place a very dramatic, because an utterly unexpected, incident.