NEW YORK: Our Town

One cold afternoon last week a pale, dark-haired young woman, supported by a nurse and a detective, entered a Manhattan court, staggered to a chair and slumped back with her head against the wall. The corridor and waiting rooms outside the justice's chambers were crowded. A group of reporters stood in the corner. At a long mahogany table facing the Supreme Court Justice's desk sat the young lady's parents. Across the table from them sat a young man with a belligerently cheerful smile. With him was his lawyer. "It's real love," the...

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