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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Стр. 220/297
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He
and
Cowperwood
and
the
latter
's
father
now
stalked
off
with
the
sheriff
's
subordinate
--
a
small
man
by
the
name
of
"
Eddie
"
Zanders
,
who
had
approached
to
take
charge
.
They
entered
a
small
room
called
the
pen
at
the
back
of
the
court
,
where
all
those
on
trial
whose
liberty
had
been
forfeited
by
the
jury
's
leaving
the
room
had
to
wait
pending
its
return
.
It
was
a
dreary
,
high-ceiled
,
four-square
place
,
with
a
window
looking
out
into
Chestnut
Street
,
and
a
second
door
leading
off
into
somewhere
--
one
had
no
idea
where
It
was
dingy
,
with
a
worn
wooden
floor
,
some
heavy
,
plain
,
wooden
benches
lining
the
four
sides
,
no
pictures
or
ornaments
of
any
kind
.
A
single
two-arm
gas-pipe
descended
from
the
center
of
the
ceiling
.
It
was
permeated
by
a
peculiarly
stale
and
pungent
odor
,
obviously
redolent
of
all
the
flotsam
and
jetsam
of
life
--
criminal
and
innocent
--
that
had
stood
or
sat
in
here
from
time
to
time
,
waiting
patiently
to
learn
what
a
deliberating
fate
held
in
store
.
Cowperwood
was
,
of
course
,
disgusted
;
but
he
was
too
self-reliant
and
capable
to
show
it
.
All
his
life
he
had
been
immaculate
,
almost
fastidious
in
his
care
of
himself
.
Here
he
was
coming
,
perforce
,
in
contact
with
a
form
of
life
which
jarred
upon
him
greatly
.
Steger
,
who
was
beside
him
,
made
some
comforting
,
explanatory
,
apologetic
remarks
.
"
Not
as
nice
as
it
might
be
,
"
he
said
,
"
but
you
wo
n't
mind
waiting
a
little
while
.
The
jury
wo
n't
be
long
,
I
fancy
.
"
"
That
may
not
help
me
,
"
he
replied
,
walking
to
the
window
.
Afterward
he
added
:
"
What
must
be
,
must
be
.
"
His
father
winced
.
Suppose
Frank
was
on
the
verge
of
a
long
prison
term
,
which
meant
an
atmosphere
like
this
?
Heavens
!
For
a
moment
,
he
trembled
,
then
for
the
first
time
in
years
he
made
a
silent
prayer
.
Meanwhile
the
great
argument
had
been
begun
in
the
jury-room
,
and
all
the
points
that
had
been
meditatively
speculated
upon
in
the
jury-box
were
now
being
openly
discussed
.
It
is
amazingly
interesting
to
see
how
a
jury
will
waver
and
speculate
in
a
case
like
this
--
how
curious
and
uncertain
is
the
process
by
which
it
makes
up
its
so-called
mind
.
So-called
truth
is
a
nebulous
thing
at
best
;
facts
are
capable
of
such
curious
inversion
and
interpretation
,
honest
and
otherwise
.
The
jury
had
a
strongly
complicated
problem
before
it
,
and
it
went
over
it
and
over
it
.
Juries
reach
not
so
much
definite
conclusions
as
verdicts
,
in
a
curious
fashion
and
for
curious
reasons
.
Very
often
a
jury
will
have
concluded
little
so
far
as
its
individual
members
are
concerned
and
yet
it
will
have
reached
a
verdict
.
The
matter
of
time
,
as
all
lawyers
know
,
plays
a
part
in
this
.
Juries
,
speaking
of
the
members
collectively
and
frequently
individually
,
object
to
the
amount
of
time
it
takes
to
decide
a
case
.
They
do
not
enjoy
sitting
and
deliberating
over
a
problem
unless
it
is
tremendously
fascinating
.
The
ramifications
or
the
mystery
of
a
syllogism
can
become
a
weariness
and
a
bore
.
The
jury-room
itself
may
and
frequently
does
become
a
dull
agony
.
On
the
other
hand
,
no
jury
contemplates
a
disagreement
with
any
degree
of
satisfaction
.
There
is
something
so
inherently
constructive
in
the
human
mind
that
to
leave
a
problem
unsolved
is
plain
misery
.
It
haunts
the
average
individual
like
any
other
important
task
left
unfinished
.
