— — —The case was nearly at an end; the witnesses had given their evidence, the prisoner his complete denial of the charges, the lawyers had made their speeches. Everyone was excited and weary. The fog had thickened in the courtroom. It was a damp winter evening — chilly outside the building, but inside rank and heated from foul air.
The prisoner refused to sit down. He must have been standing for hours. Everyone seemed to have lost count of the time. Surely for hours that rigid figure with the hand thrust into the breast of the coat had been erect there behind the wooden rail.
“It’s nearly over now,” said Belle to herself, “it’s coming to an end at last. Well, I, too, am tired. This has been very tedious. It will, however, soon be over,” she repeated, lilting the words in her mind to th
