He stammers, “Yes.”
“With one in particular you are well acquainted?”
He looks at the judge for protection, but so little is my line of attack suspected that the judge only gazes at us in rapt attention.
“I do,” says Lecoq, after a horribly incriminating pause.
“Now tell me this,” I demand, sternly. “Have you always behaved towards her as an honorable policeman?”
Would you believe it? This question also is disallowed! But I think I have damaged Lecoq all the same.
Next comes Fisher, red-faced, more pompous than ever, and inspired, I can see, with vindictive hatred towards myself. It appears that he is a London merchant; that his daughter heard a tapping on her window and called her father; that he and his servant caught me in the act of entering the chaste bedchamber through a broken window.
At this point I ask if I may put a question. The judge says yes.
“How much glass fell out?” I ask.
“Half a pane,” says he.