 our private and personal
capacities, of course.«
    »Of course.«
    »A score or so of years ago, that woman was tried at the Old Bailey for
murder and was acquitted. She was a very handsome young woman, and I believe had
some gipsy blood in her. Anyhow, it was hot enough when it was up, as you may
suppose.«
    »But she was acquitted.«
    »Mr. Jaggers was for her,« pursued Wemmick, with a look full of meaning,
»and worked the case in a way quite astonishing. It was a desperate case, and it
was comparatively early days with him then, and he worked it to general
admiration; in fact, it may almost be said to have made him. He worked it
himself at the police-office, day after day for many days, contending against
even a committal; and at the trial where he couldn't work it himself, sat under
counsel, and - every one knew - put in all the salt and pepper. The murdered
person was a woman; a woman, a good ten years older, very much larger, and very
much stronger. It was a case of jealousy. They both led tramping lives, and this
woman in Gerrard-street here, bad been married very young, over the broomstick
(as we say), to a tramping man, and was a perfect fury in point of jealousy. The
murdered woman - more a match for the man, certainly, in point of years - was
found dead in a barn near Hounslow Heath. There had been a violent struggle,
perhaps a fight. She was bruised and scratched and torn, and had been held by
the throat at last and choked. Now, there was no reasonable evidence to
implicate any person but this woman, and, on the improbabilities of her having
been able to do it, Mr. Jaggers principally rested his case. You may be sure,«
said Wemmick, touching me on the sleeve, »that he never dwelt upon the strength
of her hands then, though he sometimes does now.«
    I had told Wemmick of his showing us her wrists, that day of the dinner
party.
    »Well, sir!« Wemmick went on; »it happened - happened, don't you see? - that
this woman was so very artfully dressed from the time of her apprehension, that
she looked much slighter than she really was; in particular, her sleeves are
always remembered to have been so skilfully contrived that her arms had quite a
delicate look. She had
