The question, however, had brought back a certain softness in Millie's attitude. Forgetting for the moment her dislike of Marvin, she smiled, but to regret it and to efface the smile with a frown.
His examination of Millie had been difficult for Marvin. Into his mind had crowded old memories—happy walks along the cliff in San Francisco, afternoons in Golden Gate Park, and days in the office when he had dared to hope that some day she might learn to care. His heart leaped at the thought of moonlight strolls in the mountain woods and along the shores of the lake. Those were days when she had interested herself in his plans and it all came back to him with desperate force as her unintentional smile awakened a poignant longing within him. A whirlwind of reminiscent emotion caught him in its teeth.
"If it please your Honor," he said, his eyes shining, "there is one thing that a woman does know, and that is whether a man loves her or not! She may believe a man to be a contemptible liar. She may say that she will hate and despise him always, but somehow down in her heart, if he really loves her, she knows it!"
Forgetting that there was such a place as a court-room, or that he was defending a divorce suit against Bill Jones, all he saw was the scorn in the eyes of the girl he loved. All he felt was that he was fighting single-handed against overwhelming odds for his own happiness. He leaned close to the witness-chair and looked into the girl's eyes, and she, seeing in his eyes the thing that she had tried to forget through all the long and sorrowful months, turned away from him, lest she should betray the longing that lurked in her own heart. But Marvin's fervid plea flamed higher and higher and he went on:
"If a woman is a man's ideal—if he would gladly lay down his life for her—she knows it and no matter what she says about him or what anybody else says about him the knowledge that he cares more for her than for anything else in the entire universe must count for something, and I contend, your Honor—"
He got no farther. The whole court-room was in roars of laughter and the sheriff's gavel was knocking loudly on his table. Millie, unable to bear the situation any longer, was sobbing aloud. Townsend arose quickly and, leaning over his desk, shook a warning finger at Marvin.
"Hold on there!" he called, half in humor and half in anger. "Are you trying a divorce case or are you making love?"
The laughter in the court-room began again, but subsided, for there was something in the situation that struck deep into the hearts of the spectators and they knew that, grotesque as it might appear, shattered romance was stalking before them.
Marvin, himself once again, lowered his voice and pleaded, apologetically: "I beg your pardon, your Honor. I did not mean to go so far." Smiling sadly at Millie, he added, "That is all, Miss Buckley."
"I should say it is quite enough!" satirized the judge. "I think we had better get back to business."