annoying to be publicly snubbed for making a statement which you know
to be absolutely true, and which you have even taken pains to verify.
And Lowes-Parlby was a young man accustomed to score. He made a point
of looking everything up, of being prepared for an adversary
thoroughly. He liked to give the appearance of knowing everything. The
brilliant career just ahead of him at times dazzled him. He was one of
the darlings of the gods. Everything came to Lowes-Parlby. His father
had distinguished himself at the bar before him, and had amassed a
modest fortune. He was an only son. At Oxford he had carried off every
possible degree. He was already being spoken of for very high political
honours. But the most sparkling jewel in the crown of his successes was
Lady Adela Charters, the daughter of Lord Vermeer, the Minister for
Foreign Affairs. She was his _fiancee_, and it was considered the most
brilliant match of the season. She was young and almost pretty, and
Lord Vermeer was immensely wealthy and one of the most influential men
in Great Britain. Such a combination was irresistible. There seemed to
be nothing missing in the life of Francis Lowes-Parlby, K.C.

One of the most regular and absorbed spectators at the Aztec Street
inquiry was old Stephen Garrit. Stephen Garrit held a unique but quite
inconspicuous position in the legal world at that time. He was a friend
of judges, a specialist at various abstruse legal rulings, a man of
remarkable memory, and yet--an amateur. He had never taken sick, never
eaten the requisite dinners, never passed an examination in his life;
but the law of evidence was meat and drink to him. He passed his life
in the Temple, where he had chambers. Some of the most eminent counsel
in the world would take his opinion, or come to him for advice. He was
very old, very silent, and very absorbed. He attended every meeting of
the Aztec Street inquiry, but from beginning to end he never
volunteered an opinion.