After Sar's lawyer had made a formal apology for his client's unusual conduct, his opponent pursued the argument he had begun before the outburst.
"We maintain that Sar Wisson is incompetent," he repeated. "We have shown," he continued, "that not only her husband, but also four other men have recently been dissatisfied with her. We have five witnesses attesting to her incompetence now. We are not concerned with her ability in the past.
"We have five witnesses," he emphasized, "who state, from personal experience, that she is incompetent."
He smiled triumphantly. "Does the respondent have one who will dispute our claim?"
Sar stared at him in awe, as one would stare at an unbelievable monstrosity, born in a fertilely imaginative mind and portrayed in the TDs by an actor suitably deformed by the genius of make-up. But this was no TD image—this monster was real and he was standing only a few feet away, leering at her, challenging her, hurting her, condemning her.
They knew that she could bring forth no witnesses in her defense. That was what made the challenge so cruel. They knew that she had had no lovers since before her first child was born, nineteen years ago. She had been a virtuous wife, a faithful wife. And now they were turning her very virtue against her!
"Do you have such a witness?" Justice Klyutch asked her attorney.
"I ask the court's permission to confer privately with my client," the lawyer replied, rising hastily from his seat.
"Granted."