Q. Were they to the effect that he was in a devil of a fix with a girl, and could only see one way out of it? (Sensation.)
A. (Aghast.) Nothing of the sort. Now I recall, he described himself as sitting on a barrel of gunpowder, smoking a cigarette and waiting for the explosion that was to come.
Q. Thank you. Another effort or two, Mr. Bickerdike, and your memory may need no refreshing. Did you find your friend’s manner, now, as strange as his talk?
A. It might often have seemed strange on such occasions to those who did not know him.
Q. Answer my question, please.
A. (Reluctantly.) Well, it was strange.
Q. Stranger than you had ever known it to be before?
A. Perhaps so.
Q. I suggest that it was wild and reckless to a degree—the manner of a man who had got himself into a hopeless scrape, and saw no way out of it but social and material ruin?
A. It was very strange: I can say no more.