"Don't beat about the bush," interrupted Banana-Skin. "Did you feel that you hated him?"
The question was not answered at once. I cannot explain how it was, but the figure of Radley stood very clearly before my mind's eye, and this helped me to speak the truth, though my voice broke a bit.
"Yes."
"Ah!" Everybody considered Banana-Skin to have elicited a damning admission.
"Now," continued Stanley, his curiosity superseding his sense of what was relevant, "how many cuts did he give you?"
"Ten."
"Poor little beggar! Didn't that seem to you rather a lot?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Now answer the Coroner that," commanded Kepple-Goddard.
"Yes," I replied.