“Yes, Mr. Winkle, how often? I’ll repeat the question for you a dozen times, if you require it, Sir.” And the learned gentleman, with a firm and steady frown, placed his hands on his hips, and smiled suspiciously to the jury.

On this question there arose the edifying browbeating, customary on such points. First of all, Mr. Winkle said it was quite impossible for him to say how many times he had seen Mrs. Bardell. Then he was asked if he had seen her twenty times, to which he replied, “Certainly⁠—more than that.” Then he was asked whether he hadn’t seen her a hundred times⁠—whether he couldn’t swear that he had seen her more than fifty times⁠—whether he didn’t know that he had seen her at least seventy-five times, and so forth; the satisfactory conclusion which was arrived at, at last, being, that he had better take care of himself, and mind what he was about. The witness having been by these means reduced to the requisite ebb of nervous perplexity, the examination was continued as follows⁠—