answered. The other gazed at
the paper before him.

"Susan Brundon," he read in a loud, uncompromising tone. Jasper Penny's
eyes narrowed belligerently; he would see that these pothouse
politicians gave Susan every consideration possible. He was, with
Stephen, a far from negligible force in the city elections. "School
mistress," the Mayor read on. "Never heard of her or her school. Ah--"
Stephen Jannan had entered with Susan.

Jasper rose as she came forward, and the Mayor had the grace to remove
his hat. She wore, he saw, the familiar dress of wool, with a sober,
fringed black silk mantle, black gloves and an inconspicuous bonnet. She
met his harried gaze, and smiled; but beneath her greeting he was aware
of a supreme tension. There was, however, no perceptible nervousness in
the manner of her accepting an indicated place; she sat with her hands
quietly folded in her lap, the mantle drooping back over the chair.
Stephen Jannan, facing the Mayor, made a concise statement in a cold,
deliberate voice. "I now propose to show your honour," he finished,
"that, between the hours in which Daniel Culser is said to have been
shot to death, my client was peacefully in the company of Miss Brundon,
strolling in an opposite quarter of the city."

"Hoffernan," the Mayor pronounced, waving toward the seated woman. The
clerk advanced with a Bible; and, rising, Susan followed the words of
the oath in a low, clear voice. To Jasper Penny the occasion seemed
intolerably prolonged, filled with needless detail. Never had Susan
Brundon appeared more utterly desirable, never had his need to protect,
shield, her been stronger. He--protect her, he added bitterly; rather he
had betrayed her, dragged her immaculate sweetness down into the foul
atmosphere of a criminal hearing. His attention, fastening on the
trivialities of the interior, removed him in a species of self-hypnotism
from the actualities of the scene. He heard, as if from a distance, the
questioning of the Mayor, "At what time, exactly, did you say? How did
you know that?" Susan said, "I saw the clock at the back of the hall. I
noticed it because I wondered if the younger children had retired."

"You say you walked with Mr. Penny--where?... How long did you remain at
the river? No way of knowing. Seemed surprisingly short, I'll venture."
Why didn't Stephen put an end to such ill-timed jocularity? "And Mr.
Penny had spoken to you of his--his relations with Mrs. Scofield, the
woman