Augustus Burnbridge was lost again in his own thoughts. This murder trial had been uninteresting, dull to the extreme. The ruffian on trial had obviously been guilty, it had been the only only conclusion any judge worth his salt could have come to after seeing the dirty unwashed face, the rotten gums and missing teeth, the rags that hardly passed for clothes. The fellow had been guilty of something, even if it hadn't been murder it was something, and at least now, in the morning, that one undeserving example of human existance would pay for his crimes and serve as an example.
He was only jerked away from his thoughts when he knocked against the chair of an attractive young woman on his search for a free table of his own. "Ah, forgive me, dear lady." He said, after a moment, in which he tried to place her. She seemed familiar enough, and unusally for him, it did not come straight away. Clearly then, he had never had to sit a case with this attractive young lady in his court. "I hope I have not spoiled your coffee, perhaps I should have the staff fetch you another?"