“Maximum penalty, three months, sir.”
“That all? What a shame! Never mind. Read out your shorthand notes before you transcribe them. I’d like to hear the—the death-warrant.”
In the midst of an appalling silence Rosemary burst into tears.
“I—I think you’re very unkind,” she sobbed, addressing Virginia. “Poor—poor ‘woman.’ I—I don’t suppose for a moment she meant any harm. And but—but for you she wouldn’t have been hauled up and sent to prison.”
Virginia was on her knees at Rosemary’s feet.
“Oh, my darling,” she cried, “what a poisonous fool I’ve been! I only meant to pull your leg. I never dreamed——”
A hurricane of coughing from Major Peruke cut short the sentence.
As the paroxysm subsided he turned to P.C. Bloke.
“The lady,” he said gravely, “is naturally upset. If you remember, she saw a car going fast the other day. Besides, we don’t talk about it, but when quite a child her grocer was convicted of pound-breach, and she’s never got over it.”
Supposing Mrs. Chase to be simple and wondering what pound-breach might be—