the accused woman's solicitor, a smart dapper gentleman in
gold pince-nez, a portion of one side to the reporters, and several
ranks of benches were occupied by a miscellaneous assembly representing
the public.

There were one or two persons present whom I was somewhat surprised to
see. There was, for instance, our pock-marked acquaintance of Mansell
Street, who greeted us with a stare of hostile surprise; and there was
Superintendent Miller of Scotland Yard, in whose manner I seemed to
detect some kind of private understanding with Thorndyke. But I had
little time to look about me, for when we arrived, the proceedings had
already commenced. Mrs. Goldstein, the first witness, was finishing her
recital of the circumstances under which the crime was discovered, and,
as she retired, weeping hysterically, she was followed by looks of
commiseration from the sympathetic jurymen.

The next witness was a young woman named Kate Silver. As she stepped
forward to be sworn she flung a glance of hatred and defiance at Miriam
Goldstein, who, white-faced and wild of aspect, with her red hair
streaming in dishevelled masses on to her shoulders, stood apart in
custody of two policemen, staring about her as if in a dream.

"You were intimately acquainted with the deceased, I believe?" said the
coroner.

"I was. We worked at the same place for a long time--the Empire
Restaurant in Fenchurch Street--and we lived in the same house. She was
my most intimate friend."

"Had she, as far as you know, any friends or relations in England?"

"No. She came to England from Bremen about three years ago. It was then
that I made her acquaintance. All her relations were in Germany, but she
had many friends here, because she was a very lively, amiable girl."

"Had she, as far as you know, any enemies--any persons, I mean, who bore
any grudge against her and were likely to do her an injury?"

"Yes. Miriam Goldstein was her enemy. She hated her."

"You say Miriam Goldstein hated the deceased. How do you know that?"

"She made no secret of it. They had had a violent quarrel about a young
man named Moses Cohen. He was formerly Miriam's sweetheart, and I think
they were very fond of one another until Minna Adler came to lodge at
the Goldsteins' house about three months ago. Then Moses took a fancy to
Minna, and she encouraged him, although she had a sweetheart of her own,
a young man named Paul Petrofsky, who also lodged in the Goldsteins'
house. A