"You will be examined on the other side by Mr Cheekey," he said, intending to assume a pleasant voice. At the hearing of the awful name, sweat broke out on Cousin Henry's brow. "You know what his line will be?"
"I don't know anything about it."
"He will attempt to prove that another will was made."
"I do not deny it. Haven't I said that I think another will was made?"
"And that you are either aware of its existence—" here Mr Apjohn paused, having resumed that stern tone of his voice which was so disagreeable to Cousin Henry's ears—"or that you have destroyed it."
"What right has he got to say that I have destroyed it? I have destroyed nothing."
Mr Apjohn marked the words well, and was again all but convinced that his client was not innocent. "He will endeavour to make a jury believe from words coming out of your own mouth, or possibly by your silence, that you have either destroyed the deed,—or have concealed it."
Cousin Henry thought a moment whether he had concealed the will or not. No! he had not put it within the book. The man who hides a thing is the man who conceals the thing,—not a man who fails to tell that he has found it.
"Or—concealed it," repeated Mr Apjohn with that peculiar voice of his.
"I have not concealed it," said the victim.