The Bride Wore Crimson and Other Stories Read Free Page B

bigamist.
    The prosecutor asked Mrs. Joynes: “Did you know that four days after this marriage, while he was living under your roof, accepting your hospitality and living with your daughter, that he had written his first wife and told her he had married again, but did not love the girl he married?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œâ€¦ Or that he told his first wife he soon expected to make enough money to gain her back again?”
    â€œOh, no!”
    The prosecutor already had placed into evidence a letter that Mae had received from Toy four days after he married Dorothy. It was one of the letters that J.J. Cantrell had turned over to the police. It told of the divorce being granted, and continued:
    â€œâ€¦ I am married again, and am here to say I do not love her and never will. Words will not express my feeling about it, but I intend to take care of you, all the time. You are before anyone in the world to me.
    â€œâ€¦ Yes, it was a radical thing to do…. I did it, you know why and I expect to make enough money to gain you back again soon, Darling. Please stay close to me, for I love you above anything else on this earth. I want to marry you again as soon as I can and I expect to have some money, too.
    â€œâ€¦ Sweet, please stay with me for I am lower than I will ever be anymore in my life. … I need your help, as I always have. I hope and pray for you to come back every day that passes. I hope you will write me and tell me you will marry me again, if I will build myself up and make some money. Will you, Darling, please .
    â€œWrite me by return mail, Darling. I love you and need you every hour. Always and forever. TGW.”
    According to the newspapers, Dallas had never seen a trial to compare with the one that began on Monday, Dec. 4, 1933, in Criminal District Court No. 2, Judge Noland G. Williams presiding.
    From the moment District Attorney Bob Hurt rose to read the indictment, through 10 days of testimony by 113 witnesses and almost five hours of final arguments, the city would be transfixed by the sad and sordid drama unfolding in the courthouse.
    â€œThe courtroom, by the time a session opens, is so packed that the spectators cannot move a hand,” a Dallas Morning News reporter wrote. “The doors into the corridor were opened…but the crowd in the hall became so boisterous that Judge Williams ordered the doors closed and the hall cleared. Instead of leaving, the overflow crowd went into the courtroom across the hall and sat chatting about the trial…. Some of the spectators who arrived before 8 o’clock in the morning did not leave their seats until the night session closed…. Persons who were forced to leave the courtroom because they had to go and prepare dinner for hubby or go feed the baby, sold their seats. Two front row seats were reported to have sold for $1 each.”
    They brought lunches in brown bags and threw their bread crusts and fruit rinds on the floor. They paid tips to people who brought them water and soft drinks. Souvenir hunters stole buttons off the coats of the court bailiffs.
    Five women fainted. Several were hurt in the press of the crowd against doors, windows and walls. Dr. Horace Duncan, the county health officer, was called upon twice to give medical aid to persons overcome. A man who suffered a heart attack groaned so loudly as he was being carried from the courtroom that Judge Williams sent the jury upstairs until the commotion had ended.
    Through it all, the papers said, “Woolley sat as if he had no great concern with the case, remaining calm throughout the day while attorneys repeatedly referred to the tragic death only a month ago of his young wife. He wore a navy blue suit, light blue shirt and darker blue tie. His shoes were freshly polished, and his blond hair parted in the middle. At one time in the proceedings… Woolley smiled, and his eyes sparkled with good humor.”
    Aligned behind the defendant, in the