Doctor Hakkyt sank back muttering into his seat.
The psychologist rattled his papers again, fixed Joel's wife with a softer glance. "Annulment orders for your marriage, Mrs. Hakkyt, have been forwarded to the capitol. You are free."
"Thank you," said the young woman without glancing up from her notes.
The investigating psychologist wiped his sharp features with a handkerchief and said: "Court dismissed."
Joel watched his father and mother rise. They didn't glance at him. The psychologist cleared his throat.
"If you wish to say goodbye to the prisoner...."
Doctor Hakkyt wheeled angrily. "That won't be necessary. As far as my wife and I are concerned, the prisoner is already dead!"
Pompously, he took Mrs. Hakkyt's arm, steered her to the exit. Joel's wife closed her notebook with a snap, trotted out after them without a backward glance.
Only their scent, that unique volatile compound that was as expressive to Joel Hakkyt's sensitive nostrils as a picture, lingered behind.
It was atavistic, Joel supposed, but his sense of smell was as acute as any hound's!