“We are that, sir,” was the reply. “The Commissioner ’e’s determined to put down this dangerous drivin’.” Again he turned to Virginia. “May I ’ave your full name, madam?” Mrs. Peruke hesitated. “I really saw very little,” she said, frowning. “Quite so, madam,” said P.C. Bloke. “They was goin’ too fast to see much. But you saw them comin’, didn’t you?” “Oh, I saw them all right,” said Virginia, determined to get her own back. “There’s nothing the matter with our headlights. You couldn’t help seeing—_seeing right into the car_, could you, Roger?” Roger was understood to concur. Letting his pencil wander idly across a page, P.C. Bloke took on an absent air. “Did the man who was driving——” “It was a woman,” said his victim promptly. As if by an effort recalling his attention— “Oh, you couldn’t see that, madam,” said P.C. Albert Bloke. Oblivious of the agonized signals which Derry was making behind the officer’s back— “Of course I could,” cried Virginia. “The car had right-hand steering, and she was on the right—with a man by her side. She had one hand—on the wheel.” Her cheeks flaming, frantically twisting her rings, Rosemary moistened her lips and prayed for death. The constable shrugged his shoulders and let his pencil stray. “If you was to say that, madam, you’d be asked if you’d know ’em again, an’ then you would ’ave to say ‘No.’” “On the contrary,” said Virginia, “_I should know them anywhere_.” “Bee-utiful,” said Derry, wiping the sweat from his face. Virginia started at his tone and a finger flew to her lip. “Constable, I congratulate you. As delicate a piece of leading as ever I saw. Step by step, right over the edge, into the muck-heap. And now we _are_ all right. ‘I recognize the defendant as the woman I saw: I also recognize the man.’ Any more for the witness-box? My God, what a scoop for the Press. And I should think ‘the woman’ driving ’d get about five years.” Rosemary went very white. “Maximum penalty, three months, sir.” “That all? What a shame! Never mind. Read out your shorthand notes before you transcribe them. I’d like to hear the—the death-warrant.” In the midst of an appalling silence Rosemary burst into tears. “I—I think you’re very unkind,” she sobbed, addressing Virginia. “Poor—poor ‘woman.’ I—I don’t suppose for a moment she meant any harm. And but—but for you she wouldn’t have been hauled up and sent to prison.” Virginia was on her knees at Rosemary’s feet. “Oh, my darling,” she cried, “what a poisonous fool I’ve been! I only meant to pull your leg. I never dreamed——” A hurricane of coughing from Major Peruke cut short the sentence. As the paroxysm subsided he turned to P.C. Bloke. “The lady,” he said gravely, “is naturally upset. If you remember, she saw a car going fast the other day. Besides, we don’t talk about it, but when quite a child her grocer was convicted of pound-breach, and she’s never got over it.” Supposing Mrs. Chase to be simple and wondering what pound-breach might be—