"What passage?" "The passage between her room and mine." Mr. Justice Heber relapsed into a meditative silence; and Ronnie, looking across the thirty feet of crowded space which separated him from the hard defiant eyes of Maggie Peterson, rose nervously to his feet. "You told my learned friend"--the suave tone betrayed no hint of hostility--"that you are a married woman. Are we to understand from that that you and your husband live together?" "No." "I take it, then, that you are legally separated----" "My lord, I protest." Instantly Brunton, too, was on his feet. "My learned friend is not entitled to cross-examine----" "My lord, I submit," instantly, counsel for the defense took up the challenge, "that on the question of credibility I am entitled----" The judge allowed the question, and Brunton, muttering, subsided. Yes, admitted Maggie Peterson, she was separated from her husband. "And you told his lordship"--his first victory over the enemy made Ronnie suaver than ever--"that you occupied the room opposite to that in which the accused lived with her husband. Can I take it, from that, that you were--and still are--on friendly terms with the accused?" The witness faltered. "Well, she and me used to speak to one another when we met." "Then you neither were nor are on particularly good terms with the accused. Now, were you on friendly terms with the accused's husband?" Again the witness faltered, and Ronnie repeated his question. "I put it to you that you were not on friendly terms with Lucy Towers, but that you were very friendly with William Towers." "Not very friendly. We were just neighbors." "Just neighbors, eh?" For the first time since Maggie Peterson had entered the witness-box, Ronnie felt the atmosphere of the court favorable. The jury, and more especially the three women on the jury, had obviously taken his lucky point. He pressed it home: "You say the accused told you, some days before the crime, that she would never be happy until her husband was dead. Why should she tell you that if you and she were not on friendly terms?" "I dunno," sulkily; "she just said it." "Are you prepared to swear that those were the actual words she used?" "Yuss," defiantly, "I am." "Then if I put Mrs. Towers in the witness-box, if she denies on oath that she made any such statement to you, she will be guilty of perjury?" "Well----" "I want an answer to my question. If Mrs. Towers denies, on oath, that she made any such statement, will she or you be guilty of perjury?" "Well," the red hands shifted on the rail of the witness-box, "I wouldn't care to say she used those actual words. But that was what she meant." "You realize that what you are saying is of very grave importance?" "Yuss." "But you abide by what you have told us about the conversation between you and the accused?" "Yuss." Question and answer went on; till Maggie Peterson, gazing angrily at her interrogator, saw a black-coated figure move to his side.