'If I might explain——' I began, quivering.
He sneered. 'You have a genius for explaining, we are aware. Answer me first, yes or no; we will qualify afterward.'
I glanced appealingly at the judge. He was adamant. 'Answer as counsel directs you, witness,' he said, sternly.
'Yes, I am,' I faltered. 'But——'
'Excuse me one moment. You promised to marry him conditionally upon the result of Mr. Ashurst's testamentary dispositions?'
'I did,' I answered; 'but——'
My explanation was drowned in roars of laughter, in which the judge joined, in spite of himself. When the mirth in court had subsided a little, I went on: 'I told Mr. Tillington I would only marry him in case he was poor and without expectations. If he inherited Mr. Marmaduke Ashurst's money, I could never be his wife,' I said it proudly.
The cross-eyed Q.C. drew himself up and let his rotundity take care of itself. 'Do you take me,' he inquired, 'for one of Her Majesty's horse-marines?'
There was another roar of laughter—feebly suppressed by a judicial frown—and I slank away, annihilated.
'You can go,' my persecutor said. 'I think we have got—well, everything we wanted from you. You promised to marry him, if all went ill! That is a delicate feminine way of putting it. Women like these equivocations. They relieve one from the onus of speaking frankly.'