“Your fault?”
“Yes. You see, Mr. Phipps thought that I was very romantic indeed, and that I was getting too fond of him, so that we had better stop seeing each other. I am very romantic,” said Sally Dunne gravely, “and I was getting too fond of him.”
“How often have you seen Mr. Phipps since that evening, Miss Dunne?”
“Twice; once on the Tuesday following the—the murder—only for about five minutes in the park. I begged him not to say anything about our having been there unless it was absolutely necessary. And again last night when he said that it was necessary.”
“Yes, exactly. Thank you, Miss Dunne; that will be all. Cross-examine.”
“It was not the state that is responsible for the pitiless publicity to which this unfortunate young girl has been exposed,” said Mr. Farr, looking so virtuous that one sought apprehensively for the halo. “And it is not the state that proposes to prolong it. I ask no question.”
Judge Carver said, in answer to the look of blank bewilderment in the clear eyes, “That will be all. You may step down, Miss Dunne.”
The red-headed girl, who thought that nothing in the world could surprise her any more, felt herself engulfed in amazement.
“Well, but what did he let her go for?”