"Well, I--said it wouldn't do. Said, what about Ann? Jim was perfectly frank, honest. Told me he realized--whole affair--terrible mistake, shouldn't've started. Said he was breaking it off. Of course I--only too glad to leave it at that, trust Jim's conscience, religious upbringing and so on. Least said, soonest--and so on." "There was no question of dissolving your partnership with him?" "Dissolving--heavens no! Never entered my head." "You could find it in your heart to forgive him?" "Not the way I'd put it, sir. You just can't condemn a man for--for one moral lapse. Could happen to any hotblooded young man." "You are describing James Doherty as hotblooded?" Callista Blake lowered her face in her hands. She was not weeping; her breathing was slow and regular. Perhaps, Judge Mann thought, she needed to shut away the voices, the faces, the nearness of her accusers. He noticed the newsmen scribbling busily a moment, and heard among the spectators a rustling, shifting, sighing, as if they were in some manner bound to her and could not move till her motion released them. "I don't know. Jim's a good boy. Just sort of slipped." "The woman tempted him?" Hunter protested: "Counsel has strayed far from the matter of direct examination, and is trying to put words in the witness's mouth." "Rephrase your question, Mr. Warner." "I'll withdraw it." Warner was speaking gently, absently. "Mr. Judd, you were deeply concerned for James Doherty?" "Of course. Terrible thing, specially if Ann--" "Yes, you were concerned for Mrs. Doherty too, weren't you?" "Of course." "For anyone else?" "What? Why, if you mean myself, I suppose--oh, I don't know." "You weren't concerned for anyone else?" "I don't get your drift." "If you don't understand that question, I have no others." "I--I--" "I have no other questions, Mr. Judd." Disturbed, not immediately certain of the cause, Judge Mann asked: "Do you wish to make a redirect examination, Mr. Hunter?" "No, your Honor, not necessary. I--" Judd's right hand groped toward his left arm and sagged away. He looked not exactly frightened, more as though shocked by some astonishing news. He said: "I wish I--" As if meekly, apologetically, he tumbled out of the witness chair in a slow sprawl. II The clock said half past one. Callista watched Judge Mann hurry into the courtroom, all business, dark pucker of a frown, the black robe too priestlike. It seemed to her that all present including herself were distorted by the magnifying power of ritual. As Father Bland, in the back row beside (_my late acquaintance_) James Mulhouse Doherty, would appear deceptively beyond life-size if he were wearing his magic vestments and saying a Mass. "This Court is now in session." _Mr.-Delehanty-which-is-the-clerk._