Marvin watched him, asking, "Did you tell her you were in the Soldiers' Home?"
"No." Bill's voice was devoid of inflection.
"Then she probably didn't know where you were."
"Where else could I be?" His lips were puckered into a whistle, although they were quivering and no tune came. It was always this way when he thought of mother, so he straightened himself and stood by Marvin's chair, forcing a smile to his lips and jerking out, "And six dollars is six dollars."
The court-room was filling again, five minutes having elapsed since recess was declared. A side door opened and Townsend came into court. Blodgett stood up, pounded the desk with his gavel and announced the opening of the session. Bill and Marvin, rising to order, started and looked at each other as Thomas entered the room just behind the judge. Following him was Everett Hammond, who, when he saw Bill and Marvin together at the attorneys' table, began vigorous and anxious whispering in Thomas's ear as he took his place next to him on the other side of the table.
Margaret Davis entered from the judge's chambers. She was accompanied by Mrs. Jones and Millie.
Bill did not see them. His eyes were fastened on Hammond and Thomas in close conference.
But suddenly, as he turned to take in the rest of the people in the room, his eyes alighted on his wife. He arose and wandered toward her, exclaiming, as she came to meet him, "Why, mother, what are you doing here?" He stared at her and held out his hand.
Mrs. Jones was so surprised to see him that she could not speak and stood still, her hands in the air half-way between her waist and shoulder.
Millie was the first to answer him. "Oh, daddy—" She was going to put her arms around him, when Blodgett rapped upon the table for order.