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Show page 133 There was a hush over the courtroom. All eyes turned upon Storey. "Now, Anne, pay careful attention to my next questions. Weren't you and Storey Porter childhood sweethearts? Sweethearts up to three weeks before Forrest Clinton's death? Sweethearts up t o the time of your sudden decision to marry Forrest Clinton?" F a r r e l l prodded Storey to look up, at Anne Sharpe. The j u r y ' s eyes were on her; twelve faces tightened noticeably in expectancy of the answer that would give them the reason, the motive, for Forrest Clinton's death. No suspense of our town equals such a moment. Storey reasoned almost aloud: if she should say no. But he could not hold to think that she would. He had knox»m her as a g i r l of fifteen, riding a hay rake on the neighboring farm, her hair loose and fluffy in wind and hay dust. He had known her as a g i r l of seventeen, on her f i r s t t r i p to a beauty parlor. He had shared her free moments during her determination to finish Normal, and he had been with her at graduation. He had courted her constantly on her return, u n t i l her decision, so sudden, to marry Forrest Clinton. Storey knew she would not say no. She looked d i r e c t l y at Burrows, standing expectantly before her. "Yes, she said, "Storey and I were sweethearts u n t i l a few weeks before - before that night." Storey relived in a flash the years of h i s absence. His heart ached with a desire to reach out to Anne Sharpe in understanding. In her eyes he had seen a similar desire toward him. |