“I went occasionally after I was older. I was very fond of the old gardener and his wife. They were German and very sensitive after the outbreak of the war. We all used to go down from time to time to try to cheer them up.”
“Very considerate indeed—another errand of mercy. But about this lamp, now, that you remembered so providentially after nine years. You are quite sure that it wasn’t in the front parlour?”
“Absolutely sure.”
“It couldn’t have been standing on the little table that was overturned by Mimi Bellamy’s fall?”
“How could it possibly have been standing there?”
“I was asking you. You are perfectly sure that it wasn’t standing on that table, lighted, when you came in?”
“I see.” The unwavering eyes burned brighter with that clear disdain. “I didn’t quite understand. You mean am I lying, don’t you? I have told you the truth; the lamp was on the table in the hall.”
“Your Honour, I ask to have that reply stricken from the record as unresponsive.”
“It may be stricken from the record to the point where the witness says, ‘The lamp was on the table in the hall.’ ” Judge Carver stared down with stern, troubled eyes at the clear, unflinching face lifted to his. “Mrs. Ives, the Court again assures you that you do yourself no service by such replies and that they are entirely out of order. It requests that you refrain from them.”
“I will try to, Your Honour.”