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"Oh, absolutely. We had no secrets from each other, ever," she said.

"That's a lie," I whispered. Monsieur Polk raised his eyebrows. Beau turned to me. His eyes told me that he wanted me to tell Monsieur Polk the truth. I had hoped I wouldn't have to do it. It seemed like such a betrayal of Paul.

"Did he ever discuss with you this elaborate plan to switch his wife with Monsieur Andreas's wife after she was stricken with encephalitis?"

"No. Paul loved Ruby dearly and he was a very proud young man, as well as religious. He wouldn't give away the woman he loved just so another man could be happy living in sin," she said disdainfully. "He married Ruby in church after he realized it was the proper thing to do. I remember when he told me he was going to do it. I was unhappy he had fathered a child out of wedlock, of course, but I was happy he wanted to do what was morally right."

"She wasn't happy," I murmured. "She made him miserable. She--"

"Shh," Monsieur Polk said. He looked like he was as fascinated as everyone else with her story and didn't want to miss a detail.

"And in fact, after they were married, you and your husband and your daughters accepted Ruby and Pearl as your family, correct?"

"Yes. We had family dinners. I even helped her design and decorate her home. I would do anything to keep my son happy and close to me," she said. "What he wanted for himself, I wanted for him. And he doted on the child. Oh, how he worshiped our precious granddaughter. She has his face, his eyes, his hair. To see them walking together in the garden or to see him take her for a pirogue ride in the canals filled my heart with joy."

"So there is no doubt in your mind that Pearl is his child?"

"None whatsoever."

"And he never told you anything to the contrary?"

"No. Why would he marry a woman with someone else's child?" she asked.

Heads bobbed in agreement.

"During Ruby Tate's illness, you had many opportunities to visit their home?"

"Yes."

"And did he ever give you an indication he was worrying about his wife's sister and not his wife?" Monsieur Williams pursued.

"No. On the contrary, and as anyone here who had seen my son during this trying period can testify, he mourned so hard, he became a shell of himself. He neglected his work and began drinking. He was in a constant depression. It broke my heart."

"Why didn't he just put his wife into a hospital?"

"He couldn't bear being away from her. He was at her side constantly," Madame Tate said. "Hardly how he would be were it not Ruby," she added, gazing scornfully at me.

"Why did you ask the court to grant an order for you to retrieve your granddaughter?"

"These people," Gladys Tate said, spitting her words toward us, "refused to give Pearl back to me. They turned my attorney and a nurse away from the door. And all this," she moaned, "while I was mourning the horrible death of my son, my little boy . . ."

She burst into tears. Monsieur Williams stepped for-ward quickly with his handkerchief.

"I'm sorry," she wailed.

"That's all right. Take your time, madame."

Gladys wiped her cheeks and then sniffled and sucked in her breath.

"Are you all right, Madame Tate?" Judge Barrow asked.

"Yes," she said in a small voice. Judge Barrow nodded to Monsieur Williams, who stepped forward to continue.

"Recently Monsieur and Madame Andreas came to your home, did they not?" he asked.

She glared at us. "Yes, they did."

"And what did they want?"