‘He kissed my hand before he went out.’
‘That is something, but not quite an answer to my question.’
‘Nothing else that could give you satisfaction.’
‘How were you dressed?’
‘I regret to have to inform you that I was fully dressed.’
‘My Lord, may I ask to be protected from these sarcasms?’
Dinny admired the stilly way in which the Judge said:
‘Answer the questions simply, please.’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
Clare had moved out from under the shadow of the canopy and was standing with her hands on the rail of the box; spots of red had come into her cheeks.
‘I suggest that you were lovers before you left the ship?’
‘We were not, and we never have been.’
‘When did you first see the co-respondent again after you left him on the dock?’
‘I think about a week later.’
‘Where?’
‘Down near my people’s at Condaford.’
‘What were you doing?’
‘I was in a car.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes, I had been canvassing and was going home to tea.’
‘And the co-respondent?’
‘He was in a car, too.’
‘Sprang up in it, I suppose, quite naturally?’
‘My Lord, I ask to be protected from these sarcasms.’
Dinny heard a tittering, and heard the Judge’s voice addressing nobody:
‘What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, Mr Brough.’
The tittering deepened. Dinny could not resist stealing a glance. The handsome face was inimitably wine-coloured. Beside her, ‘very young’ Roger wore an expression of enjoyment tinctured by anxiety.
‘How came the co-respondent to be on this country road fifty miles from London?’
‘He had come to see me.’
‘You admit that?’
‘He said so.’
‘Perhaps you could tell us the exact words he used.’
‘I could not, but I remember that he asked if he might kiss me.’
‘And you let him?’
‘Yes. I put my cheek out of the car, and he kissed it, and went back to his car and drove away.’
‘And yet you say you were not lovers before you left the ship?’
‘Not in your sense. I did not say that he was not in love with me. He was; at least he told me so.’
‘Do you suggest that you were not in love with him?’
‘I’m afraid I do.’
‘But you let him kiss you?’
‘I was sorry for him.’
‘You think that is proper conduct for a married woman?’
‘Perhaps not. But after I left my husband I did not regard myself as a married woman.’
‘Oh!’
Dinny had a feeling as if the whole Court had said that word. ‘Very young’ Roger’s hand emerged from his side pocket; he looked at what it contained intently, and put it back. A rueful frown had come on the pleasant broad face of the jurywoman who resembled a housekeeper.
‘And what did you do after you had been kissed?’
‘Went home to tea.’
‘Feeling none the worse?’
‘No; better if anything.’
Again the titter rose. The Judge’s face went round towards the box.
‘Are you speaking seriously?’
‘Yes, my Lord. I wish to be absolutely truthful. Even when they are not in love, women are grateful for being loved.’
The Judge’s face came round again to gaze at the unseen above Dinny’s head.
‘Go on, Mr Brough.’
‘When was the next occasion on which you saw the co-respondent?’
‘At my aunt’s house in London where I was staying.’
‘Did he come to see your aunt?’
‘No, to see my uncle.’
‘Did he kiss you on that occasion?’
‘No. I told him that if we were to meet, it must be platonically.’
‘A very convenient word.’
‘What other should I have used?’
‘You are not standing there to ask me questions, madam. What did he say to that?’
‘That he would do anything I wished.’
‘Did he see your uncle?’
‘No.’
‘Was that the occasion on which your husband said he saw him leaving the house?’
‘I imagine so.’
‘Your husband came directly he had gone?’
‘Yes.’
‘He saw you, and asked who that young man was?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you tell him?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think you called the co-respondent Tony?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was that his name?’
‘No.’
‘It was your pet name for him?’
‘Not at all. Everybody calls him that.’
‘And he called you Clare, or darling, I suppose?’