"You drew it yourself," Van Spreckdal resumed. "What is the subject of it?"
"It's a subject out of my own head."
"You didn't copy these details from somewhere?"
"No, sir. I imagined all of them."
"The accused would do well to reflect on the truth of what he is saying," said the judge severely. "Do not lie to the court."
I went red in the face and cried out exaltedly:
"I have told it the truth."
"Write that down, clerk of the court," Van Spreckdal ordered.
The quill pen raced afresh.
"And this woman," the judge went on, "this woman being murdered on the edge of a well… Did you imagine her as well?"