Mr. Trevelyan pauses a moment. “Are you and Mr. Steele friends?” Mr. Trevelyan suddenly asks.
“We’ve quarreled, but we were friends before.”
Mr. Trevelyan looks at me accusingly. “Didn’t Mr. Steele take you by the collar and turn you out of his office?”
No, no. He never did that. We shook hands.
“Speak up, Mr. Hastie. Didn’t Mr. Steele throw you out of his office?”
“That’s a lie,” I shout. The courtroom falls silent.
Justice Norris raps his knuckle on the bench. “Mr. Hastie, you can’t behave that way in court. We’ll take a few moments for you to compose yourself. Otherwise I’ll have to remove you.”
The clerk brings me a glass of water. I refuse it. Mr. Trevelyan looks at the judge, who nods. Mr. Trevelyan starts in again.
“Did you ever see a document called a Leaflet?” Mr. Trevelyan asks in a conversational tone.
“Yes, I received a copy.”
Mr. Trevelyan speaks more quickly. “Who sent it to you?”
“Whom do you think wrote it?” Mr. Trevelyan asks.
“I think Mrs. Walker wrote it.”
“Was Mrs. Walker on good terms with Miss Pigot?” Mr. Trevelyan asks.
“I don’t think they were friends.”
“Did you know Miss Smail wasn’t a friend of Miss Pigot?”
“Yes.” My pulse races.
Mr. Trevelyan looks at me with his expressionless face.
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