She tried to say a word of cheer to Gordon, and choked. The little chin drooped, showing the white teeth, and she sat in dumb misery like a sick child.
The man looked at her tenderly and said:
"You must be calm, Ruth, dear. Death is a physical incident that no longer interests me, except as it affects you. You are the one miracle of life and death to me."
She pressed his hand and could not answer.
At five o'clock the jury returned for instructions, and she listened with agony to their awful questions.
At six o'clock there was a hurried stir in the court-room. The crowd surged into its doors and packed every inch of space.
The jury were filing in with their verdict.
The judge solemnly took his seat, and the clerk summoned Gordon to stand up.
The giant figure rose with dignity and his steel-gray eyes pierced the jury.
The foreman's lips moved:
"Guilty of murder in the first degree!"
A long breath, a stir, a murmur, and then a broken sob from a woman's heart. Her arms were around his neck, her head on his breast, and her swollen lips in low, piteous tones cried:
"My darling!"
