‘I do. I have only just enough money to live on.’
‘No thought of the co-respondent, when you took them?’
‘None.’
‘Not even just a sidelong thought of him?’
‘My Lord, I have answered.’
‘I think she has, Mr Brough.’
‘After this you saw the co-respondent constantly?’
‘No. Occasionally. He was living in the country.’
‘I see, and came up to see you?’
‘He always saw me when he did come up, perhaps twice a week.’
‘And when you saw him what did you do?’
‘Went to a picture gallery or a film; once to a theatre, I think. We used to dine together.’
‘Did you know you were being watched?’
‘No.’
‘Did he come to your rooms?’
‘Not again till February the third.’
‘Yes, that is the day I am coming to.’
‘I thought so.’
‘You thought so. It is a day and night indelibly fixed in your mind?’
‘I remember it very well.’
‘My friend has taken you at length through the events of that day, and except for the hours at Oxford, it seems to have been spent almost entirely in the car. Is that so?’
‘Yes.’
‘And this car was a two-seater, with what, my Lord, is called a “dicky.” ’
The Judge stirred.
‘I have never been in a “dicky,” Mr Brough, but I know what they are.’
‘Was it a roomy, comfortable little car?’
‘Quite.’
‘Closed, I think?’
‘Yes. It didn’t open.’
‘Mr Croom drove and you were seated beside him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now when you were driving back from Oxford you have said that this car’s lights went out about half-past ten, four miles or so short of Henley, in a wood?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was that an accident?’
‘Of course.’
‘Did you examine the battery?’
‘No.’
‘Did you know when or how it was last charged?’
‘No.’
‘Did you see it when it was recharged?’
‘No.’
‘Then why – of course?’
‘If you are suggesting that Mr Croom tampered with the battery –’
‘Just answer my question, please.’
‘I am answering. Mr Croom is incapable of any such dirty trick.’
‘It was a dark night?’
‘Very.’
‘And a large wood?’
‘Yes.’
‘Just the spot one would choose on the whole of that journey from Oxford to London?’
‘Choose?’
‘If one had designed to spend the night in the car.’
‘Yes, but the suggestion is monstrous.’
‘Never mind that, Lady Corven. You regarded it as a pure coincidence?’
‘Of course.’
‘Just tell us what Mr Croom said when the lights went out.’
‘I think he said: “Hallo! My lights are gone!” And he got out and examined the battery.’
‘Had he a torch?’
‘No.’
‘And it was pitch dark. I wonder how he did it. Didn’t you wonder too?’
‘No. He used a match.’
‘And what was wrong?’
‘I think he said a wire must have gone.’
‘Then – you have told us that he tried to drive on, and twice got off the road. It must have been very dark?’
‘It was, fearfully.’
‘I think you said it was your suggestion that you should spend the night in the car?’
‘I did.’
‘After Mr Croom had proposed one or two alternatives?’
‘Yes; he proposed that we should walk into Henley, and that he should come back to the car with a torch.’
‘Did he seem keen on that?’
‘Keen? Not particularly.’
‘Didn’t press it?’
‘N – no.’
‘Do you think he ever meant it?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘In fact, you have the utmost confidence in Mr Croom?’
‘The utmost.’
‘Quite! You have heard of the expression “palming the cards”?’
‘Yes.’
‘You know what it means?’
‘It means forcing a person to take a card that you wish him to take.’
‘Precisely.’
‘If you are suggesting that Mr Croom was trying to force me to propose that we should spend the night in the car, you are wholly wrong; and it’s a base suggestion.’
‘What made you think I was going to make that suggestion, Lady Corven? Had the idea been present to your mind?’
‘No. When I suggested that we should spend the night in the car, Mr Croom was taken aback.’
‘Oh! How did he show that?’