"I am sure I don't know," said Mrs. Hornby, wiping her eyes with the paper and then hastily exchanging it for her handkerchief.
The judge took off his glasses and gazed at Mrs. Hornby with an expression of bewilderment. Then he turned to the counsel and said in a weary voice—"Proceed, if you please, Mr. Anstey."
"Can you tell us, Mrs. Hornby, how the 'Thumbograph' came into your possession?" said the latter in persuasive accents.
"I thought it was Walter, and so did my niece, but Walter says it was not, and he ought to know, being young and having a most excellent memory, as I had myself when I was his age, and really, you know, it can't possibly matter where I got the thing—"
"But it does matter," interrupted Anstey. "We wish particularly to know."
"If you mean that you wish to get one like it—"
"We do not," said Anstey. "We wish to know how that particular 'Thumbograph' came into your possession. Did you, for instance, buy it yourself, or was it given to you by someone?"
"Walter says I bought it myself, but I thought he gave it to me, but he says he did not, and you see—"
"Never mind what Walter says. What is your own impression?"
"Why I still think that he gave it to me, though, of course, seeing that my memory is not what it was—"