![]() "Members of the jury-" The patient old eyes seemed to sum them up and take stock of their united intelligence. Her eyes, like dark smudges under the heavy square brows, seemed equally without fear and without hope. He did not look at the prisoner as he gathered his notes into a neat sheaf and turned to address the jury, but the prisoner looked at him. He had sat for three days in the stuffy court, but he showed no sign of fatigue. His scarlet robe clashed harshly with the crimson of the roses. His parrot-face and parrot-voice were dry, like his old, heavily-veined hands. ![]() The judge was an old man so old, he seemed to have outlived time and change and death. There were crimson roses on the bench they looked like splashes of blood. ![]()
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