Then Lawyer Wakefield began a series of cross-questions that fairly made the poor girl quail.
"In which direction were you going when you met the ambulance?" asked this persistent judge.
"I was coming this way, of course."
"And you mean to say your curiosity didn't prompt you to turn around and see where the ambulance stopped?"
"I didn't say that," faltered Molly, feeling very much like a prisoner at the bar.
"You did turn and look then? Was it toward the faculty houses or the Quadrangle that the ambulance was driving?"
"Well, really, Judge Wakefield, I think I had better seek legal advice before replying to your questions."
Margaret laughed.
"I only wanted to prove to myself that the only way to get at the truth of a matter is by a system of questions which require direct answers. It's like the game of 'Twenty Questions,' which is the most interesting game in the world when it's properly played. Once I guessed the ring on the Pope's finger in six questions just by careful deduction. It's easier to get at the truth by subtracting than adding——"
"Truth, indeed. You haven't got a bit nearer than any of us," burst in the incorrigible Judy. "With all your legal mind you haven't made Molly tell us who was in the ambulance, and of course she knows. She has never said she didn't, yet."