Judge Mann said evenly: "The oath is binding in that form--should there be a question in anyone's mind. The witness is exercising a constitutional privilege which ought to be familiar to everyone." She felt he would have liked to speak to her directly, humanly. Instead he turned to the still faintly resonating Delehanty and remarked in a casual undertone too low for the jury's hearing but not for hers: "You might be interested to know, Mr. Delehanty, that I chose to affirm when I took the oath as a justice." _You were not actually speaking to that-which-is-the-Clerk--I heard and I'm grateful._ "You may take the stand now, Miss Blake." They were trying to help her. Cecil, Edith, now Judge Mann who, as Cecil said, had tried all along to give her every break--tried too much for his own good, maybe, and hers too. She understood that he not only desired to help her: he _saw_ her. Her mind grew dizzy, shifted, retreated, sought to steady itself, reason and unreason quarreling within. Were they, the three of them, treating her as they might treat a difficult child? She fought down the illogical resentment, despising it, conquering it--almost. She was seated, the ungainly witness chair still warm from Edith's body. How different the courtroom looked from up here! A whole new orientation. Just look, for instance, at that big slob in the back row smuggling a candy bar up to the pink slot in his shiny face. Had that operation been going on since Monday morning? _Look, Daddy! Is he s'posed to eat in here, Daddy, is he s'posed to, huh, Daddy?_ The jury too. (_Where's Jimmy?_) The jury was closer, much closer. She could smell them. One of the females gave off a powerful tuberose reek, variable as drafts in the large room stirred it about. (_Where's Jimmy, if it matters?_) Callista decided the smell was generated by the Lagovski, probably in heat. Any minute now--well, Emerson Lake was the biggest, but pretty old; maybe one of the more vigorous younger males-- "Callista--" _Please stand near me always!_--"you're a resident of Winchester, aren't you?" "Yes, sir. 21 Covent Street." "You've kept that apartment?" "Oh yes. Edith Nolan is taking care of it for me." "Ought to be back there in a few days." _How do you do it, Cecil, that casualness? You're hurting inside worse than I am. I feel fine._ "You were attentive to all of Miss Nolan's testimony, weren't you?" "Yes, I was, Mr. Warner." "Before we go on to other things, is there anything in that testimony that you want to comment on, or add to, maybe?" _You told me, give them modesty. "Every one of them knows, Cal, that you're in their power. Think what that does to twelve human egos, and show them the respect they believe they deserve. In fact don't just show it: try to make yourself feel it." I will give them modesty, Cecil._ "I think she overrated me as an artist, Mr. Warner. It's her honest view, I know, but I'm not that good." _Who knows for sure? Maybe I am._