“As devoted to them as Mr. Ives?”
“Now, Your Honour——”
Judge Carver eyed the impassioned Lambert with temperate interest. “That seems a fairly broad question, Mr. Farr, calling for a conclusion.”
“Very well, Your Honour, I’ll reframe it. Did she seem as fond of them as Mr. Ives?”
“Oh, quite, I should think—though, of course, Mrs. Ives is not demonstrative.”
“I see—not demonstrative. Cold and reserved, eh?”
Judge Carver’s stern voice cut sharply across Miss Page’s pretty, distressed, appealing murmur: “Mr. Farr, the Court is anxious to give you as much latitude as possible, but we believe that you have gone quite far enough along this particular line.”
“I defer entirely to Your Honour’s judgment. . . . Miss Page, was Mrs. Ives with Mr. Ives when you met him coming into the nursery with the boat in his hand?”
“No, Mrs. Ives had already said good-night to the children before her dinner.”
“Did Mr. Ives go into the nursery before you went downstairs?”