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Part 2. The Trial

Pail

Pale, still and emotionless,

the living embodiment of a candle

whose flame is fluttered out, she faced Judge Barrett,

clad in somber black from the crown of her hat to the tips of her satin pumps.

The woman who last January fired the shots that ended two lives,

appeared the mere ghost-like shadow of her former self. Gone are the round pink cheeks,

the bright light of the dark brown eyes, the smile that once lit up the pretty phase. Instead,

there is an almost startling pallor, a pallor born of nine months imprisonment, of abject fear of what the

future has in store. And more noticeable than the power, more striking than the thinness of the

once well-rounded form, is an air of hopeless despondency that pervades her entire attitude.

Without lifting the dotted veil that covered her wan face, or troubling to throw back the heavy seal-skin coat she wore,

the prisoner sat for the most part motionless on her wooden chair, one elbow resting on the table beside her, eyes bent upon her lap.

Only one flicker of emotion stirred her face throughout the proceedings, and that came

during the morning session when baby Richard, the year-old child, who has during his mother's

imprisonment been taken care of by his grandmother, whimpered from his place in the center of the courtroom.

The baby's presence at the opening of the trial marked a small victory for the defense,

for it was against the request of Assistant District Attorney Spicer that the child was allowed to remain in the courtroom.

Richard, immaculately dressed, gurgled happily from the lap of his aunt.

However, he became restless once during the morning and once during the afternoon,

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