Miriam Bell and Nell accompanied us to the county courthouse.
Gideon wore his best dark coat.
I had brushed it that morning, carefully avoiding the injured ear beneath his hair.
His face remained pale, but his movements were controlled.
The courtroom was crowded.
Everyone wanted to see whether the strange, nearly deaf rancher would finally lose his property.
Harlan Vane sat near the front.
He was a narrow-faced man in his early fifties, with silver hair and a beautifully tailored black coat.
He looked prosperous, respectable, and entirely comfortable.
Dr.
Pryce sat beside him.
My father occupied the opposite bench.
Merrick was nowhere in sight.
Judge Alden began by reading the petition aloud.
He listed the accusations against Gideon.
Confusion.
Violent disturbances.
Irresponsible conduct.
Mental instability.
I watched Gideon’s hands tighten every time the judge’s lips moved too quickly for him to follow.
Finally, I stood.
“Your Honor, my husband cannot hear these proceedings.”
The judge frowned.
“We understand Mr.
