” Courtlaw laid his hand upon Ennison’s shoulder. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. This year—I’ve got it badly. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles.
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