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I was hoping they could come along. Into the courtroom with us."

"Oh, geez," he said, clicking his tongue. "The judge. I don't know if he's going to like that. It's against rules." He considered Wilkie and Sam for a moment. "They wouldn't happen to be medical dogs, would they? To help you get around, I mean."

"Well ... yes, now that you mention it, they do help. A great deal."

"Charlotte," Henry whispered, only to receive an elbow in the flank.

"I'll tell you what, Miss Graves. You bring them in here, and I'll just settle them down in the back row, where no one can see them. How's that?"

"Wonderful. I knew I could rely on you."

She and Henry took seats in the third row of the courtroom and stood when, a few minutes later, Anthony called out, "All rise, the Honorable George M. Cushman presiding."

"You weren't expecting that, now were you?" Charlotte whispered.

"Expecting what?"

"You remember the Cushmans. Mommy and Daddy used to have drinks with them all the time. That's their son, George. He would come to the lake with us. Don't you remember? Chubby George."

"Oh, for Christ's sake. This is ridiculous. You're going to embarrass us."

"My God," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "Will you look at that? He's here, the bastard. With some slickster lawyer. Just look at those pinstripes. They're an inch apart."

Turning to look, Henry saw a man in his late thirties with tightly shorn black hair and a rather barren expression. He had that over-groomed look to him that many of the younger bankers did these days, giving them, at times, an almost feminine appearance, despite all their hours in the gymnasium. Not so his companion - a pug of a man whose pinstripe was indeed immoderately wide. He chewed gum and thumbed impatiently at the wheel of his BlackBerry.

"What business does he have here? I'm not suing him."

"Gee, I don't know," Henry said. "You're only trying to take the man's house. He's an interested party. He's allowed to intervene."

Before Charlotte's case was finally called, they had to sit through two DUIs and a dispute between the country club and one of its junior members over a malfunctioning golf cart, reminding Henry that only the luckless, the petty, or the deranged wound up in court.

REVIEWING HIS DOCKET in chambers earlier that morning, George Cushman had a thought similar to Henry's upon noticing that he would have to conduct the hearing on the Graves matter that day. The prospect saddened him. Though they were hardly friends, he'd known Charlotte Graves for the better part of his life and said hello to her whenever they met in town. What was more, as a member of the board of the Historical Association, he would have liked nothing better than to rule in her favor. He found houses like the one that had been thrown up on that land almost as offensive as she did. No one denied that Willard Graves had given the property to Finden for preservation or that he had specified in the bequest that should the town sell or develop it, it would revert to the estate. But the rule against perpetuities as it related to conditions broken was clear enough in this state: after thirty years the right to repossess the land was no longer valid. That term having long since expired, the town maintained, quite correctly, that its title was now absolute; it could do with the acreage as it pleased. As he would with any pro se plaintiff, Judge Cushman had done his best to tease from the mass of verbiage in Charlotte's petition some colorable argument. But when, after six pages of single-spaced invective, she'd begun a history of her family's donations to local charities, he'd given up the effort. He would give her her day in court and soften the blow by delaying his dismissal of her complaint by a few weeks.

Straight out of the gate, however, the problems began. When Charlotte stood from behind the plaintiff's table she said, "Good morning, George. I did just want to say, I am so glad it's you."

Incredulous, the town attorney rose to object but Cushman stayed him before he could speak. The lawyer for the intervener, Fanning, however, would not be held back.

"May I approach, Your Honor?"

"No, Counselor, you may not. You will be pleased to sit down. Now, Ms. Graves," he said, "litigants must address this court as either 'Your Honor' or 'the court.' Is that clear?"

"Of course, I'm so sorry. I didn't