“I regret,” he said somewhat severely, “that this statement of yours was not put in yesterday.”
“I never had no chance, sir—your worship. I did try to be heard.”
Sir Harold interposes:
“May I ask your lordship to allow me to read the sworn statement made by Guy Cheale?”
Then Sir Almeric jumps up. He looks ruffled and disturbed, as he intimates:
“I do not oppose my learned friend’s application, my lord.”
The next thing to do is to release the witness.
“That will do, Mrs. Cheale,” says Sir Harold in a courteous tone. “We thank you very much for the clear way in which you have given your evidence. I understand that you wish to go back to London as soon as possible. If so, I hope you will use my motor car.”
A murmur of admiration for Sir Harold’s thoughtful kindness runs through the Court. But to the judge Sir Harold’s public announcement of his kindness seems highly irregular, and his lordship hastens to create a diversion.
“Sir Almeric Post,” he observes in his frigid tones, “in view of what is contained in that sworn statement, it is for you to read it to the jury, and not Sir Harold Anstey.”