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Page 102
Sir Henry Marquis himself added another, in support of the
contention of his guest . . . and from her own country.
The lawyer walked about the room. The restraint which he had
assumed was now quite abandoned.
"That's all there is to it," he said. "I'm not trying this case
for amusement. You have the money to pay me and you must bring
it up here now, tonight."
The woman sat in a chair beyond the table. She was young, but
she looked worn and faded. Misery and the long strain of the
trial had worn her out. Her hands moved nervously in the frayed
coat-cuffs.
"But we haven't any more money," she said. "The hundred dollars
I paid you in the beginning is all we have."
The man laughed without disturbing the muscles of his face. "You
can take your choice," he said. "Either bring the money up here
now, to-night, or I withdraw from the case when court opens in
the morning."
"But where am I to get any more money?" the woman said.
The lawyer was a big man. His hair, black and thin, was brushed
close to his head as though wet with oil; his nose was thick and
flattened at the base. The office contained only a table, some
chairs and a file for legal papers. Night was beginning to
descend. Lights were appearing in the city. The two persons had
come in from the Criminal Court after the session for the day had
ended.
The woman seemed bewildered. She looked at the man with the
curious expression of a child that does not comprehend and is
afraid to ask for an explanation.
"If we had any more money," she said, "I would bring it to you,
but the hundred dollars was all we had."
Then she began to explain, reiterating minute details. When the
tragedy occurred and her husband was arrested by the police they
had a small sum painfully saved up. It was now wholly gone.
Like persons in profound misery, she repeated. The man halted
the recital with a brutal gesture.
"I'll not discuss it," he said. "You can bring the money in here
before the court convenes in the morning, or I withdraw from the
case."
He went over to the file, took out a packet of legal papers and
threw them on the table.
"All right, my lady!" he said, "perhaps you think your husband
can get along without a lawyer. Perhaps you think the devil will
save him, or heaven, or Cinderella in a pumpkin coach!" There
was biting irony in the bitter words.
A sudden comprehension began to appear in the woman's face. She
realized now what the man was driving at. The expression in her
face deepened into a sort of wonder, a sort of horror.
"You think he's guilty!" she said. "You think we got the money
and we're trying to keep it, to hide it."
The lawyer turned about, put both hands on the table and leaned
across it. He looked the woman in the face.
"Never mind what I believe; you heard what I said!"
For a moment the woman did not move. Then she got up slowly and
went out. In the street she seemed lost. She remained for some
time before the entrance of the building. Night had now arrived.
Crowds of people were passing, intent on their affairs,
unconcerned. No one seemed to see the figure motionless in the
shadow of the great doorway.
Presently the woman began to walk along the street in the crowd
without giving any attention to the people about her or to the
direction she was taking. She was in that state of mental coma
which attends persons in despair. She neither felt nor
appreciated anything and she continued to walk in the direction
in which the crowd was moving.
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