As if by an effort recalling his attention—
“Oh, you couldn’t see that, madam,” said P.C. Albert Bloke.
Oblivious of the agonized signals which Derry was making behind the officer’s back—
“Of course I could,” cried Virginia. “The car had right-hand steering, and she was on the right—with a man by her side. She had one hand—on the wheel.”
Her cheeks flaming, frantically twisting her rings, Rosemary moistened her lips and prayed for death.
The constable shrugged his shoulders and let his pencil stray.
“If you was to say that, madam, you’d be asked if you’d know ’em again, an’ then you would ’ave to say ‘No.’ ”
“On the contrary,” said Virginia, “I should know them anywhere.”
“Bee-utiful,” said Derry, wiping the sweat from his face. Virginia started at his tone and a finger flew to her lip. “Constable, I congratulate you. As delicate a piece of leading as ever I saw. Step by step, right over the edge, into the muck-heap. And now we are all right. ‘I recognize the defendant as the woman I saw: I also recognize the man.’ Any more for the witness-box? My God, what a scoop for the Press. And I should think ‘the woman’ driving ’d get about five years.”
Rosemary went very white.