And as the evidence he gave to the Court went on and on, Dinny’s eyes never left his face, as if fascinated by its constrained but bitter unhappiness.
“Now, Mr. Croom, this is my last question: You are aware that if these allegations of misconduct were true, you would be in the position of a man who has seduced a wife in her husband’s absence. What have you to say to that?”
“I have to say that if Lady Corven had felt for me what I feel for her, I should have written to her husband at once to tell him the state of things.”
“You mean that you would have given him warning before anything took place between you?”
“I don’t say that, but as soon as possible.”
“But she did NOT feel for you what you felt for her?”
“I am sorry to say, no.”
“So that in fact no occasion to inform the husband ever arose?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
A slight stiffening of young Croom’s figure heralded Brough’s rich slow voice, saying with peculiar deliberation:
“In your experience, sir, are the feelings of lovers towards each other ever the same?”
“I have no experience.”
“No experience? You know the French proverb as to there being always one who kisses and the other who offers the cheek to the kiss?”
“I’ve heard it.”
“Don’t you think it’s true?”
“About as true as any proverb.”
“According to the stories you both tell, you were pursuing in her husband’s absence a married woman who didn’t want you to pursue her? Not a very honourable position—yours—was it? Not exactly what is called ‘playing the game’?”
“I suppose not.”
“But I suggest, Mr. Croom, that your position was not as dishonourable as all that, and that in spite of the French proverb she DID want you to pursue her?”
“She did not.”
“You say that in face of the cabin incident; in face of her getting you in to distemper her walls; in face of the invitation to tea and to spend over half an hour with her at nearly midnight in those convenient rooms of hers; in face of the suggestion that you should spend the night with her in a car, and come to breakfast the morning after? Come, Mr. Croom, isn’t that carrying your chivalry rather far? What you say has to convince men and women of the world, you know.”
“I can only say that, if her feelings for me had been what mine were for her, we should have gone away together at once. The blame is entirely mine, and she has only treated me kindly because she was sorry for me.”
“If what you both say is true, she gave you hell—I beg your pardon, my Lord—in the car, didn’t she? Was that kind?”
“When a person is not in love I don’t think they realise the feelings of one who is.”
“Are you a cold-blooded person?”
“No.”
“But she is?”
“How is the witness to know that, Mr. Brough?”
“My Lord, I should have put it: But you think she is?”
“I do not think so.”
“And yet you would have us think that she was kind in letting you pass the night with her head on your shoulder? Well, well! You say if her feelings had been yours, you would have gone away at once. What would you have gone away on? Had you any money?”
“Two hundred pounds.”
“And she?”
“Two hundred a year, apart from her job.”
“Flown away and lived on air, eh?”
“I should have got some job.”
“Not your present one?”
“Probably not.”
“I suggest that both of you felt it would be mad to fling your caps over the windmill like that?”
“I never felt so.”
“What made you defend this action?”
“I wish we hadn’t.”
“Then why did you?”
“She thought, and her people thought, that as we had done nothing, we ought to defend.”
“But YOU didn’t think so?”
“I didn’t think we should be believed, and I wanted her free.”
“Her honour didn’t occur to you?”
“Of course it did; but I thought for her to stay tied was too heavy a price to pay for it.”
“You say you didn’t think you’d be believed? Altogether too improbable a story?”
“No; but the more one speaks the truth, the less one expects to be believed.”
Dinny saw the Judge turn and look at him.
“Are you speaking generally?”
“No, my Lord, I meant here.”
The Judge’s face came round again and his eyes studied the unseen above Dinny’s head.
“I am considering, you know, whether I should commit you for contempt of Court.”
“I am sorry, my Lord; what I meant was that anything one says is turned against one.”
“You speak out of inexperience. I will let it pass this time, but you mustn’t say things of that sort again. Go on, Mr. Brough.”
“The question of damages, of course, didn’t affect you in making up your mind to defend this action?”
“No.”
“You have said that you have no private means. Is that true?”
“Certainly.”
“Then how do you mean that it didn’t affect you?”
“I was thinking so much of other things that bankruptcy didn’t seem to matter.”
“Now, you have said in examination that you were not aware of Lady Corven’s existence until you were on this ship coming home. Do you know a place in Ceylon called Neuralya?”
“No.”
“What?”
Dinny saw a faint smile creep out among the Judge’s folds and wrinkles.
“Put the question another way, Mr. Brough; we generally call it Neuralya.”
“I know Neuralya, my Lord.”
“Were you there in June last?”
“Yes.”
“Was Lady Corven there?”
“She may have been.”
“Wasn’t she in the same hotel as you?”
“No. I wasn’t in an hotel. I was staying with a friend.”
“And you did not meet her playing golf or tennis, or out riding?”
“I did not.”
“Or anywhere?”
“No.”
“Not a large place, is it?”
“Not very.”
“And she’s a conspicuous person, isn’t she?”
“I think so.”
“So you never met her till you were both on this ship?”
“No.”
“When did you first become conscious that you were in love with her?”
“About the second or third day out.”
“Love almost at first sight, in fact?”
“Yes.”
“And it didn’t occur to you, knowing that she was a married woman, to avoid her?”
“I knew I ought to, but I wasn’t able.”
“You would have been able to if she had discouraged you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she in fact discourage you?”
“N-no. I don’t think she was aware of my feelings for some time.”
“Women are very quick in such matters, Mr. Croom. Do you seriously suggest that she was unaware?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you trouble to conceal your feelings?”
“If you mean did I make love to her on the ship—I did not.”
“When did you first make love to her?”
“I told her my feelings just before we left the ship.”
“Was there any real reason why you should have gone to her state-room to see those photographs?”
“I suppose not.”
“Did you look at any photographs at all?”
“Certainly.”
“What else did you do?”
“I think we talked.”
“Don’t you know? This was an occasion for you, wasn’t it? Or was it only one of several occasions of which we have not been told?”
“It was the only time I was inside her state-room.”
“In that case surely you remember?”
“We just sat and talked.”
“Beginning to remember, eh? Where did you sit?”
“In the chair.”
“And where did she sit?”
“On her bed. It was a small cabin—there was no other chair.”
“An outside cabin?”
“Yes.”
“No chance of being overlooked?”
“No, but there was nothing to overlook.”
“So you both say. I suppose it gave you something of a thrill, didn’t it?”
Dinny saw the Judge’s face poked forward.
“I don’t want to interrupt you, Mr. Brough, but the witness has made no secret of his feelings.”
“Very well, my Lord. I will put it to him bluntly. I suggest, sir, that on that occasion there was misconduct between you?”
“There was none.”
“H’m! Tell the jury why it was that when Sir Gerald Corven came to London you did not go to him and frankly avow your relations with his wife.”