"I think you telegraphed to Chalons when you got to Paris to tell Lord Ellerdine of your mistake?"
"Mr. Collingwood did so for me."
"And to your husband?"
"No; that was not necessary."
In some subtle, but very real fashion, the atmosphere of the court was becoming more and more charged with excitement. Everybody was sitting perfectly still. All eyes were directed to the slim figure of the girl in the witness-box. The hush was not broken by any sounds, save only that of the great counsel's voice with its deadly innuendo, its remorseless logic of fact, and the replies of the sweet-voiced girl.
"Why not?" Sir Robert asked, with a deep note of suggestion.
"I did not want to worry him with our silly mistakes," was the answer; and even as she gave it Peggy's heart sank like lead within her, realising how inadequate and feeble it sounded.
"Did you think that it would annoy your husband to think that you and Mr. Collingwood were alone in Paris?"
"Not a bit," she replied.
"Then why didn't you tell him? You had nothing to hide?"