At the end of the session he reluctantly postponed the hearing until October 25 to allow both sides to file additional affidavits. On that day the Andrews and Pelser affidavits and counteraffidavits were read. The next day Moore took over with his old vitality and argued all day on the Goodridge motion, insisting again and again that the district attorney had intimidated the man and shaped his evidence by the threat of revoking his Massachusetts probation. * * * * * Judge Thayer was once more living at the University Club. Each morning he and a group of reporters took the same train from the Back Bay Station. Among them was a pretty young woman, Mrs. Elizabeth Bernkopf, from the International News Service, to whom the senescent but still gallant judge took a particular fancy. At first he merely waited until she had taken her place in the car and then asked if he might sit with her. Later he took to joining her on the platform before the train arrived. Sitting beside her in the train, he would unburden himself of his incubus case while she kept inviolably silent. As the city slums receded, replaced beyond Forest Hills by the trim rectangles of the suburbs and the autumn outline of Great Blue Hill, he talked on and on, boasting that he “could not be intimidated by anybody or anything.” The defense “would find that they could not hoodwink him.” He represented the integrity of the courts of Massachusetts, he told her, and he was going to maintain that integrity. One morning Judge Thayer gave Mrs. Bernkopf his autographed picture. Occasionally she would get a knowing look from the other reporters as they passed down the aisle. The judge said he had long been put out by the kind of people who were supporting the defense, but what really stirred him so that even the recollection stepped up his pulse was “that long-haired anarchist lawyer from California.” The old man would lean forward confidentially, assuring the young woman that if Moore thought he could outwit the courts of Massachusetts he had another think coming. Maybe Moore could play that game successfully in California, but those tricks and threats just would not work in Dedham. He, Judge Thayer, was not going to be imposed on! As the train pulled into the Dedham Station, Thayer with avuncular gallantry would guide Mrs. Bernkopf’s elbow down the aisle, tip his hat to her on the platform, and say that he hoped he would have the pleasure of her company again. Three years later she recorded the substance of his conversations in an affidavit. * * * * *