"Oh, I can't say not entirely afterwards. I cared for her some—a good deal, I guess—but still not as much as I had. I felt more sorry for her than anything else, I suppose."
"And now, let's see—that was between December first last, say, and last April or May—or wasn't it?"
"About that time, I think—yes, sir."
"Well, during that time—December first to April or May first, you were intimate with her, weren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Even though you weren't caring for her so much."
"Why—yes, sir," replied Clyde, hesitating slightly, while the rurals jerked and craned at this introduction of the sex crime.
"And yet at nights, and in spite of the fact that she was alone over there in her little room—as faithful to you, as you yourself have testified, as any one could be—you went off to dances, parties, dinners, and automobile rides, while she sat there."
"Oh, but I wasn't off all the time."
"Oh, weren't you? But you heard the testimony of Tracy and Jill Trumbull, and Frederick Sells, and Frank Harriet, and Burchard Taylor, on this particular point, didn't you?"