"A _reciprocal_ weakness?"

"Well, my lord, you know the world--so do the gentlemen of the jury--"

"And of the Jewry!" screamed his lordship, amid laughter from the
merry wigs.

As Frankl stepped down, a name was called at which Hogarth went cold
as a ghost: "Rebekah Frankl".

And in she stepped splendent, to stand like a Nubian woman, with
that retreat of the hips, her ears torn with their load of gold, her
throat and breast ablaze, she bringing into that English court the
gaudy heat of the Orient, Baal and Astarte, orgies of Hindoo women
in temples of Parvati, the pallid passion of Bacchantes. Though not
tall, she was lofty, and her ebon eyes had that very royalty of the
stare of the bent form in the dock, whose heart throbbed quick like
paddle-wheels that thrash the sea, she his wild divinity, wild wife
of his wild youth....

At her shocking beauty the Court stood hushed.

She suggested the East: but in her speech was the energy of the
West--sharp--a bass almost like her father's.

"You recognize the prisoner?"

"Yes". She smiled.

"You were present on the day of the 11th November when the prisoner