The Big Face-Off

Bill Clinton has been in a lot of tight spots in his political career, but probably none that felt as confining as the one in which he found himself Saturday. In the 11th-floor conference room of the Washington offices of his lawyer Robert Bennett, just two blocks from the White House, Clinton became the first sitting President to be questioned under oath as a defendant in a court case. There he momentarily set aside the noble task of searching for his place in history--part of his preparations for the State of the Union address--in order to answer questions more suited to a giggly teen's game of Truth or Dare.

All the same, at the end of six hours of questioning by Jones' attorneys, Clinton departed in what sources close to him say was an ecstatic mood. The President felt that the deposition had gone smashingly for him. Describing the mood Saturday night at the White House, one person close to the President said, "Everyone is going to sleep well tonight." Clinton prepared to do just that, forgoing an evening at the Kennedy Center or a dinner with chief of staff Erskine Bowles to stay in for the night. Jones, along with her husband Stephen, her spokesperson Susan Carpenter-McMillan, and the hair stylist responsible for her new subdued look, retreated to the Old Ebbitt Grill for dinner, where Jones sipped white wine and, later, champagne, ate ravioli, smoked a string of cigarettes and invited three reporters to join her table. "I feel great," she told TIME. (She autographed the napkins of three preteen girls who had just finished a tour of the White House. THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT. YOU'RE SO CUTE was her inscription.) Earlier in the day, Carpenter-McMillan had hinted that there might be a press conference after the deposition. When none transpired, Clinton's team took it as a sign that the Jones side might feel deflated. In a case where public image is everything, spin to the media is everything plus.

If the day ended in smiles, it started in chaos. Carpenter-McMillan had promised reporters that Jones would make a brief statement on the way into Bennett's office. That proved impossible: though police had cordoned off the front entrances to Bennett's office, swarms of reporters and camera crews hovered at all corners of the building. The crush when Jones and her husband arrived at the back entrance was so great that they were swept indoors without a word. But Carpenter-McMillan managed a few solemn ones for the solemn occasion: Jones, she said, had told her she felt proud to know "that a little girl from Arkansas is equal to the President of the United States."

Clinton entered Bennett's offices more quietly, being driven to a basement parking lot that had an underground entrance to the building. During the lunch break, a takeout lunch arrived at Bennett's suite of offices--teriyaki salmon, spring onion cakes and vegetable spring rolls from Oodles Noodles restaurant. The Jones team had sandwiches. But in this ill-fated case, even the small players can get hit. The Oodles deliveryman was arrested and handcuffed after parking illegally and then arguing with a police officer.