... An invisible band that has never been measured by our mortal standards binds mother and child together. It, alone of earthly ties, takes no count of Time or Space, and joy and degradation and wealth and want and woe alike are powerless to loosen. It has been called the only unselfish love, but it is not that. For, "damned in body and soul," the boy clings to his mother as to a promise of salvation; and a mother, dying in shame and despair, yet sees in her child—Immortality!...
As if it had needed but that touch of the fingers to draw the cord tightly around his heart, Raymond felt for a moment that his soul was going out to the wretched woman that he had never seen until that day. Emotions that he had never known before were stirred to life. A desire to take her in his arms almost overpowered him. And what it meant to the mother only a mother may know. "Speak!" She would commit a thousand murders and go a thousand times to execution rather than utter a syllable now!...
"You, gentlemen of the jury, will weigh in the balance her sincerity and repentance with her guilt, and let your conscience be the judge of what punishment is proportionate to the crime she has committed."
There was a rustle and low murmur of whispered conversation as M. Valmorin resumed his seat.
"I don't think much of M. the Public Prosecutor," muttered M. Perissard. M. Merivel nodded his acquiescence without taking his eyes off the scene beyond the railing. The prisoner was huddled over the front of the dock, sobbing violently The President gazed at her with pity in his eyes.
"Woman Laroque, will you answer my questions now?" he asked, kindly. She did not seem to hear.
"You said a few minutes ago that you would speak."
Jacqueline raised her wet, anguish-stricken face and held out both hands, as if warding off a blow.
"No! Never! Never!" she cried, wildly, and sank down again.
"Take time for reflection, and let me, for the last time, advise you not to remain obstinate!" persisted the judge.