“_At 1.10 a.m. on July the eighth I was on duty at the junction of Roe’ampton Lane and Dandle Row. A limousine car, ooze number I afterwards ascertained to be XH 2908, was about to turn out of the Row towards Richmond at a slow pace. Its lights was burnin’. As it turned out I made to pass be’ind it to cross the Lane when a coopy, ooze number I afterwards ascertained to be XL 9436, proceedin’ at a ’igh speed in the direction of Putney ’Eath, swerved right across the roadway an’——_” Derry’s cigarette-case fell to the parquet with a crash. Everyone jumped violently, and Rosemary, white to the lips, stifled a cry. Purple in the face, the culprit stammered apologies and garnered his cigarettes with trembling fingers. Remembering her recent ignominy, Virginia surveyed his efforts with a cold and glittering stare. His hands clapped to his face, Roger furtively regarded his wife between his fingers. “Go on, Constable,” said Virginia sweetly. “‘Swerved right across the roadway’ directly into the path of the limousine, whose headlights were on.” “Thank you, madam,” said Bloke triumphantly. “I couldn’t say that myself because I was be’ind your car. But it passed so close to me that I felt the wind on me face.” He turned to Roger. “Do you remember it too, sir?” As though wishful to uproot it, Captain Chase tugged his moustache. “I—I have a faint recollection,” he said uneasily. “If I remember, they—they swung away again. You know. Corrected their error an’——” “’Appily for you, sir,” was the grim reply. “Otherwise it’d ’ve been manslaughter. As wicked a piece of reckless drivin’ as ever I saw. Passed the refuge on the wrong side——” “Had to do that,” said Derry. “I mean—they probably couldn’t ’ve got back without countin’ the refuge out.” “Very probably, sir,” said the constable. “You can’t bother about them things at forty-five miles an hour.” This was too much. “O-o-oh!” cried Rosemary. “I wasn’t going——” She stopped dead there and swallowed violently. “I wasn’t going to—to tell you,” she continued desperately. “But I saw a car going fast the other day. Not—not so fast as that, though,” she added with a sickly smile. P.C. Albert Bloke put a hand to his head. With shaking fingers, Major Peruke was lighting a cigarette: as he did so a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his nose. Virginia looked as though about to burst into hysterical laughter. The idiotic grin which had lately inhabited Derry’s face seemed to have shifted bodily to that of Roger. Once again the constable referred to his notes. “_I called upon them to stop, but they took no notice._” “Perhaps—perhaps they didn’t hear you,” blurted Derry Peruke. “That’s their look-out, sir. One can’t do no more than shout.” He turned to Virginia. “And now if you please, madam, I’d like to take your statemen’.” A rustle of consternation greeted this curt announcement. As the fellow felt for a pencil— “I—I don’t quite follow,” said Derry. “Are you, er, proposing to prosecute?”