Hornby, encumbered by her purse, her handkerchief
and the Testament, struggled to unfasten her bonnet-strings. She clawed
frantically at her bonnet, and, having dusted the Testament with her
handkerchief, kissed it tenderly and laid it on the rail of the box,
whence it fell instantly on to the floor of the court.
"I am really very sorry!" exclaimed Mrs. Hornby, leaning over the rail
to address the usher as he stooped to pick up the Book, and discharging
on to his back a stream of coins, buttons and folded bills from her open
purse; "you will think me very awkward, I'm afraid."
She mopped her face and replaced her bonnet rakishly on one side, as
Anstey rose and passed a small red book across to her.
"Kindly look at that book, Mrs. Hornby."
"I'd rather not," said she, with a gesture of repugnance. "It is
associated with matters of so extremely disagreeable a character--"
"Do you recognise it?"
"Do I recognise it! How can you ask me such a question when you must
know--"
"Answer the question," interposed the judge. "Do you or do you not
recognise the book in your hand?"
"Of course I recognise it. How could I fail to--"
"Then say so," said the judge.
"I have said so," retorted Mrs. Hornby indignantly.
The judge nodded to Anstey, who then continued--"It is called a
'Thumbograph,' I believe.
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