“By the way,” he began, “why do you call yourself Bolland?”
“That is my name, sir.”
“Are you John Bolland’s son?”
“No, sir.”
“Then whose son are you?”
“I do not know. My father and mother adopted me thirteen years ago.”
The lawyer gathered by the expression on the stolid faces of the jury that this line of inquiry would be fruitless.
“What was the cause of the fight between you and young Beckett-Smythe?”
This was the signal for an interruption from the jury. Mr. Webster, the foreman, did not wish any slight to be placed on Mrs. Saumarez. The upshot might be that he would lose a good customer. The Squire dealt at the Stores. Let him protect his own children. But Mrs. Saumarez needed a champion.