recall what it was? She could and did. But was it not true that the program had been published, and anyone might know simply by reading one, without having attended the performance?
She had no idea; she did not read such things.
Land assured her that it was so.
She had married Maurice Jerome eleven years ago and he had been a good husband to her, had provided well. He was sober, industrious, and had never given her cause to complain in any way. He had certainly never mistreated her either verbally or physically; he had not forbidden her any friendships or the occasional outing. He had never embarrassed her by flirting with other women, or any manner of unseemly behavior; nor had he been coarse or overdemanding in private. And he had certainly never required of her any conjugal duties that were offensive or other than would be expected of any wife.
But then, as Land pointed out with something close to embarrassment, there was a great deal she did not know. And, being a lady of decent upbringing and gentle disposition, it would never have occurred to her to be jealous of a schoolboy! In fact, she probably had not even known of the existence of such depraved practices.
No, she admitted, white to the lips, she had not. And she did not believe it now. It may be true of some, if Mr. Land said so; but it was not true of her husband. He was a decent man- indeed, highly moral. Even uncouth language offended him, and he never took alcohol. She had never known him to exhibit the least vulgarity.
They permitted her to go, and Charlotte wished she would leave the court. It was hopeless-nothing could save Jerome. It was pathetic, even vaguely revolting, to hope.
Nevertheless it ground on.
Another, less biased witness-a previous employer-was called regarding Jerome's character. He was embarrassed to be there and it was obviously very much against his wish. While he did not want to say anything that might ally him with Jerome in the public mind, he could hardly admit to having been aware of any long-standing flaw in Jerome's character. He had recommended him without reservation; he was now obliged to stand
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by that recommendation or appear a fool. And since he was an investment banker, that he could not possibly afford to do.
He duly swore that while living in his house and tutoring his sons, Jerome had appeared to be of exemplary, character, and certainly he had never behaved improperly toward either of his sons.
And would the witness know if he had, Land inquired courteously.
There was a long hesitation while he weighed the consequences of either answer.
'Yes,' he said firmly at last. 'Certainly I would. I am naturally concerned with the welfare of my family.'
Land did not pursue it. He nodded and sat down, knowing a fruitless course when he saw it.
The only other witness of character was Esmond Vanderley. It was he who had recommended Jerome to Waybourne. Like the previous witness, Vanderley was caught between two poles: appearing to support Jerome and-far worse than merely being a poor judge of character-having been the single individual who had more than any other precipitated the tragedy they were discussing. After all, it was he who had brought Maurice Jerome into the house and thus into Arthur Way-boume's life-and death.
He swore to his name and his relationship with the Way-bourne household.
'Lady Waybourne is your sister, Mr. Vanderley?' Giles repeated.
'Yes.'
'And Arthur Way bourne was your nephew?'
'Naturally.'
'So you would not lightly or casually recommend a tutor for him, knowing the effect it would have on his personal and academic life?' Giles pressed.
There was only one answer that allowed self-respect.
'Of course,' Vanderley said with a slight smile. He leaned elegantly over the rail. 'I would make myself unpopular
