"That is good. ’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. She saw his eyes glaze over. "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. But it was of no avail. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. Plote was sleeping or deaf. “Have you anything to ask the witness?” asked the helpful inspector.
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