Robert Pettifer clapped the palm of his hand down upon the cuttings from the newspapers which lay before him on his desk.
"This--no other verdict could possibly have been given by the jury. On the evidence produced at the trial in Bombay Mrs. Ballantyne was properly and inevitably acquitted."
"Robert!" exclaimed his wife. She too had been hoping for the contrary opinion. As for Hazlewood himself the sunlight seemed to die off that garden. He drew his hand across his forehead. He half rose to go when again Robert Pettifer spoke.
"And yet," he said slowly, "I am not satisfied."
Harold Hazlewood sat down again. Mrs. Pettifer drew a breath of relief.
"The chief witness for the defence, the witness whose evidence made the acquittal certain, was a man I know--a barrister called Thresk."
"Yes," interrupted Hazlewood. "I have been puzzled about that man ever since you mentioned him before. His name I am somehow familiar with."
"I'll explain that to you in a minute," said Pettifer, and his wife leaned forward suddenly in her chair. She did not interrupt but she sat with a look of keen expectancy upon her face. She did not know whither Pettifer was leading them but she was now sure that it was to some carefully pondered goal.
"I have more than once briefed Thresk myself. He's a man of the highest reputation at the Bar, straightforward, honest; he enjoys a great practice, he is in Parliament with a great future in Parliament. In a word he is a man with everything to lose if he lied as a witness in a trial. And yet--I am not satisfied."
Mr. Pettifer's voice sank to a low murmur. He sat at his desk staring out in front of him through the window.
"Why?" asked Hazlewood. But Pettifer did not answer him. He seemed not to hear the question. He went on in the low quiet voice he had used before, rather like one talking to himself than to a companion.
"I should very much like to put a question or two to Mr. Thresk."
"Then why don't you?" exclaimed Mrs. Pettifer. "You know him."
"Yes." Mr. Hazlewood eagerly seconded his sister. "Since you know him you are the very man."
"It would be an impertinence. For although I look upon Dick as a son I am not his father. You are, Hazlewood, you are. He wouldn't answer me."