The Evil Shepherd begins - Francis Ledsam, alert, well-satisfied with himself and the world, the echo of a little buzz of congratulations still in his ears, paused on the steps of the modern Temple of Justice to light a cigarette before calling for a taxi to take him to his club. Visions of a whisky and soda-his throat was a little parched-and a rubber of easygoing bridge at his favorite table, were already before his eyes. A woman who had followed him from the Court touched him on the shoulder.