“I couldn’t be mistaken.”
“Barry, have you any questions you desire to ask in order to test the witness’s knowledge before she makes the final disclosure?”
“I don’t see that what she’s saying concerns me particularly,” replied Barry. “I don’t object to Mrs. Bradley having company home. It’s rather a lonesome route across the bridge and up the hill. She ought to have somebody with her, going that way after dark.”
“But,” protested Jane, “think whom she chose to go with her. A man who isn’t a fit companion for men, let alone for women.”
“I don’t think much of his theories,” replied Barry, “but I never heard that he was positively bad.”
“Barry Malleson! What do you call a bad man, I’d like to know? Why, this man flouts religion, and denounces the Church, and preys on society, and——”
“Well, Jane,” interrupted Westgate, “suppose we put all that aside for the moment, and you go on and tell us what you saw at the bridge.”
“Yes. Well, I saw them start across the bridge together, and before they got half-way over they stopped and—really, this isn’t very nice to tell.”
“Probably not,” said Westgate, “but we can’t tell whether or not it was very nice to do until we hear what it was they did.”
“Well, if you force me to tell it, why, I saw him put his arm around her waist, and pull her close up to him and—and kiss her.”