her face wax-white, a little black hat on her
wonderful golden-red hair, and in her breast a tuberose. It was the
intoxicating sweetness of that which had breathed upon me first, and
now kept on breathing upon me, while she watched me through her
eyelashes. From sheer fright I kept looking at her--I couldn't help
it--until I felt father's hand touch mine. That seemed to break the
spell. I looked down at the carpet again and felt the color rushing to
my face. I heard the rustle of her dress, a soft, silky, indefinite
sound. She had come forward into the room, had taken one of the
chairs, I knew--I heard the subsiding of her draperies--and then I felt
her watching me. Her presence was like a great light in a closet. It
was oppressive. I began to breathe quickly, and the odor of her flower
was making my head ache.

I heard the crackle of father's paper as he rolled it; then his voice,
low and speaking close to me, "Mr. Dingley said you were to be called
after Gora. We would better go into the court now, so as not to be
hurried."

Somehow I had a fancy he would not have suggested our going into court
so soon if the Spanish Woman had not come into the witness room. I
followed him down the hall, not daring to turn my head, though I
thought I heard the door open again after we had closed it, and then
the rustle of her dress; but it did not seem to be following us, but to
grow fainter, as if she had turned in another direction.

We joined the crowd of people hastening toward the swinging door. As
we came up to it I heard from within a high-lifted resonant voice that
I thought I recognized as Mr. Dingley's speaking with pauses and rising
inflections, as if addressing an audience. It ceased just as we
entered the court.

The room was large, though not nearly so large as I had imagined, and
quite cheerful in color. I had an impression of yellowish pine walls
and plenty of light, a continuous though not loud murmur of voices and
the incessant flutter of the movement of a crowd. There were no
serried ranks of judges and barristers in black gowns, indeed at first
sight my confused eyes saw nothing but the crowd. And such a
well-dressed, holiday-looking gathering! I saw girls whom I knew,
their gowns making bright spots of color among the men's dark coats.
It looked more like an afternoon concert than a trial. Every place
seemed to be taken, and men and women, standing up, lined the walls.
But a police officer