The next morning, Leander sat in the meeting cell, waiting for the solicitor to arrive. Weeks strode in, holding his head high. He barked some instructions at his clerk, then settled himself into his chair.
“Well, then, let’s begin, Reverend Norris. First of all, why don’t you tell me, in your own words, about the accusation,” Weeks said, as if the clerk were invisible. The clerk dipped his pen in the inkwell, then poised it, ready to take notes.
“There’s not much to tell, Mr. Weeks. The gentleman and I were seen at Lyon’s Corner House together and here we are.”
Weeks laughed. Beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead. “What was so scandalous about you being seen at a pub in London?”
“Don’t you have that in your paperwork?”
“Yes, sir, I have the information from the complaint f
