MR. WARNER: I will call the jury's attention to the fact that there is no actual break in the letter at the point where Mr. Hunter stopped reading. The thought there is incomplete, and Miss Blake went on to complete it in the same paragraph. MR. HUNTER: I will call the jury's attention to the fact that I have been reading a rather difficult handwriting for several minutes, and am slightly hoarse. I would also point out that it is the end of a page, and the indentation at the beginning of the next page looks to me very much like the beginning of a paragraph. MR. WARNER: Mr. District Attorney, you must have noticed that Miss Blake's writing does not make a very precise left-hand margin, but the paragraph indentations are characteristically quite deep. MR. HUNTER: Very well--I don't want to argue a point like this--it's all one paragraph if you like. May I continue? MR. WARNER: By all means, finish the paragraph. MR. HUNTER (reading): "... No, I don't hate Ann, I was not thinking only of Ann when I wrote that. "Another thing, by the way, that I hardly dared to write. "Jimmy, I need to know: if Ann would allow a separation, and if we went somewhere--no matter where, so it's a long way off--would you be mentally, emotionally _able_ to live with me? Look into yourself. Tell me, if you can, what would happen inside you, supposing the situation was like that. Make it far away--Arizona, Tahiti, island of Capri, who cares?--and I am with you, in your bed at night and with you in all the long bright days. Would you see me still as a human woman who loves you and who would be happy to bear you children?--that could be, you know; a doctor assured me of it a couple of years ago, the little deformity is no obstacle. Or would I become the whore who 'led you astray' and 'wrecked your life'? "You know, Jimmy, it hasn't seemed to me (but I could be so damned wrong!) that religion goes very deep with you. Isn't it mostly a matter of being brought up in a certain way that automatically shuts out other views without seriously examining them? I'm trying to suggest that unlike Ann, you're really not embedded in religion like a fly in amber. I've made no secret of my own agnosticism with you--wouldn't have occurred to me to do so--and that hasn't appeared to trouble you particularly. You do shy away, you don't like the topic, I suppose you feel the way so many people do nowadays, that religion is all right but talking about it is not quite nice. But I can't imagine that you condemn me in your heart (do you?) for relying on my own reason, being unafraid of doubt, interested in proof, critical of all self-appointed authority?