Miss Volumnia accepted what may be called the Office of Chief Catechist, and proceeded on the assumption usual in Investigation, that she was examining an unwilling witness with a strong inherent love of falsehood for its own sake.
"You admit then, cousin Reginald, that on this occasion a suggestion was made that the voice came from this photograph?"
Mr. MacAnimus nodded rapidly, and said, "Yes—keep him to that!" and conferred a moment apart with Mr. Vacaw, who murmured:
"Yes, yes—I see your point. Quite correct!"
"It was Stumpy's little joke!" said Mr. Aiken. "Not a Phenomenon at all! You'll make anythin' out of anythin'. I shall tell Stumpy, and he'll split his sides laughin' at you."
"Pray do, cousin Reginald. Only let me ask you this one question—what was the exact date of this occurrence?" Miss Volumnia had abated the pointed finger, but not quite suppressed it. Her colleagues nodded knowingly to each other and each said, "You'll see we shall see."
Mr. Aiken's answer was vague. "A tidy long while ago," said he. "Couldn't say how long. After Stumpy came back from Aunt Jopiska's, anyhow."
"When was that?"
"Three or four months ago. More! No—less! Stop a bit. I know what'll fix it. That receipt. Where the dooce is it?" Mr. Aiken had a paroxysm of turning miscellanea over.
"What is it you are looking for, Reginald?" paid his wife forbearingly. "If you would tell me what it is. I could find it for you, without throwing everything into confusion. Why can you not be patient and methodical? What is it?"