For laid out before me like a living museum was a daily tour of the city’s carved faces. I stared at the lions and acanthus leaves. There were saint..., arches, clean lines of art deco shapes. There were flowers that looked lifted from my old girl scout sash, their petals curved as neatly as skilled embroidery. Every day the bus driver showed me the sights. She took me past these buildings again and again, as if deliberately trying to impress the architecture upon my memory. Yet none of the other. The adversary, her husband, entered moments later, wearing a green tweed jacket, brown woollen trousers and an open-necked cream collared shirt. By his side, a single young barrister, suited but nowhere near as sharply as any of the wife’s numerous briefs.“All rise for the Honourable Judge Lord Smith QC!” starchily announced the clerk of the court.All rose as the judge, a bewigged mature woman of average height, spare build, dressed in a flowing black gown, entered and sat facing the court. She. More

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