“It is well established by the evidence befo’ ther co’te,” she went solemnly on, “thet ther defendant is guilty on every count contained in the indictment.” She checked off upon the fingers of the left hand the roster of his crime as she summarized it.
“He entered inter an unlawful conspiracy with the codefendant Rover, a setter dawg. He made a felonious assault without provocation. He committed murder in the first degree with malice prepense.”
Spurrier’s head sank low in mock despair, until Glory came to her peroration and sentence.
“Yet since the defendant is amply proved to be a poor, ignorant wanderer upon the face of the earth, unpossessed of ordinary knowledge, the court is constrained to hold him incapable of discrimination between right an’ wrong. Hence he is not fully responsible for his acts of violence. Mercy as well as justice lies in the province of the law, twins of a sacred parentage and equal before the throne.”
She broke off in a laugh, and so sudden was the transition from absolute mimicry that the man forgot to laugh with her.
“Glory,” he demanded somewhat breathlessly, “have you ever been to a theater in your life? Have you ever seen a real actress?”
“No. Why?”
“Because you are one. Does this life satisfy you? Isn’t there anything off there beyond the hills that ever calls you?”
The dancing eyes grew abruptly grave, almost pained, and the response came slowly.