“Oh,” Mysgart said with well-simulated surprise, “then you did operate your car on the middle lane?”
“I went across it.”
“Straight across?”
“Yes.”
“Then am I to understand you turned sharply and crossed the middle lane at a right angle?”
“Don’t be silly, I angled over to the right-hand lane.”
“Oh, then, you turned abruptly in front of oncoming traffic?”
“Certainly not,” Bertha said. “You can’t mix me up. I eased my way over.”
“Taking perhaps a block in order to complete your maneuver, or two blocks, or three blocks, or four blocks?”
“I don’t know.”
“It might have been four blocks?”
“I don’t know... It could have been.”
“Then for a long distance, Mrs. Cool, perhaps for as much as four blocks, you were operating your car in the middle lane of traffic?”
“I was easing my way across it.”
“Then what did you mean by telling us that at no time did you operate your car on the middle lane of traffic?”
“Well, I meant that I wasn’t... well, I wasn’t going down the middle lane and intending to keep on it.”
“But you did operate your car across the middle lane?”
“Across, yes.”
“Then for a certain period of time you did have your car moving along Garden Vista Boulevard so that all four of its wheels were within the white lines of the middle lane?”
“I guess so, yes.”
“I don’t want any guessing about it,” Mysgart announced. “I want the facts. Come, Mrs. Cool, if you’re as expert an automobile driver as you claimed, you certainly should be able to tell us frankly and without equivocation whether you did or did not at any time within those eight or ten blocks operate your automobile so that all four wheels were within the white lines of the middle lane of the highway.”
“I did, yes!” Bertha shouted at him.
Mysgart settled back in his chair with sad resignation. “Then you were testifying incorrectly, Mrs. Cool, when you said that at no time did you operate your car on the middle lane.”
Bertha turned to say something but the words sputtered into angry, inarticulate sounds. The court reporter looked up.
“Come, come,” Mysgart said, “try and answer that question.”
Bertha said, “I’ve told you what happened.”
“Exactly. You have told me two different things, Mrs. Cool. I’m really trying to find out which is correct.”
Little beads of perspiration appeared on Bertha’s forehead. She said, “All right, have it your own way.”
“No, no, not my way,” Mysgart interposed hastily, “your way, Mrs. Cool. And may I caution you that you’re under oath, so this time try and tell the truth.”
“All right,” Bertha screamed at him, “I was on the left-hand lane. I crossed over the middle lane to the right-hand lane. Now what’s wrong with that?”
“A great deal might have been wrong with it,” Mysgart said condescendingly. “It depends on how you did it. Did you give any signal before you cut across the right-hand lane?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did you look behind?”
“Of course I looked behind.”
“Turned your head?”
“No. I glanced in the rearview mirror.”
“And, because of the angle at which your car was being operated, you couldn’t see the road down that lane. In other words, since you had turned your car sharply to the right, your rearview mirror only showed the vehicles directly behind you. What I am getting at,” Mysgart said soothingly, “is that you didn’t see the car operated by Esther Witson which was coming behind you?”
“No, I didn’t,” Bertha admitted.
“When did you first see it?”
“When I got over to the right-hand curb and stopped. Then I looked up in the rearview mirror and saw her right behind me.”
“Oh, you stopped?”
“Yes, I stopped,” Bertha said angrily. “Now try and twist something out of that.”
“Did you give a stop signal when you stopped?”
“Yes, I did.”
“How?”
“I put my arm out of the window on an angle.”
“Your whole arm?”
“My whole arm.”
“And gave a stopping signal?”
“A stopping signal,” Bertha asserted.
“Now why did you stop, Mrs. Cool? You didn’t have any passengers to let out at the curb, did you?”
“No.”
“And you knew that this wasn’t a parking place?”
“Of course.”
“You were right at the intersection?”
“Right at the intersection.”
“And there was a traffic signal on Mantica Street?”
“Yes.”
“And that signal was in a position that held traffic open for travel along Garden Vista Boulevard?”
“That’s right.”
“And yet you stopped?”
“Well, I just about stopped.”
“Not whether you just about stopped, Mrs. Cool. I want to know whether you stopped.”
“Well, I... I may have been moving very slowly.”
“But a moment ago, Mrs. Cool, you said you stopped.”
“All right,” Bertha shouted at him, “I stopped, then.”
“Brought your car to a dead stop?”
“To a dead stop, if you want it that way.”
“Not the way I want it, Mrs. Cool, but what did you actually do?”
“All right, I stopped my car.”
“To a dead stop?”
“I didn’t get out and stick up my finger and sight along the edge of it to see if the car was moving,” Bertha said sarcastically.
“Oh, I see,” Mysgart said as though that explained everything. “I think you misunderstood me, Mrs. Cool, or I misunderstood you. As I get your testimony now, you aren’t absolutely certain whether your car was at a dead stop or whether it was moving?”
“That’s right.”
“But you did give a full arm signal that you were going to stop?”
“That’s right.”
“A stop signal?”
“That’s what I said.”
“And that’s what you meant?”
“Of course that’s what I meant.”
“Now let me ask you again, Mrs. Cool, why did you stop? You didn’t intend to park there.”
Bertha said, “I intended to turn left as soon as this other car got around me.”
“Oh, you intended to turn left? Did you convey your intention by means of any signal?”
“Certainly.”
“You mean you gave a left-turn signal?”
“That’s right.”
“And how did you do that, Mrs. Cool?”
“How does anyone do it?”
“No, no, Mrs. Cool, I want to know how you did it.”
Bertha said, “I stuck my left arm out of the window — straight out.”
“A full arm signal?”
“A full arm signal.”
“And then you saw this car behind you.”
“Yes.”
“For the first time?”
“Yes.”
“And you wanted that car to go around you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you convey your intention to the driver of that car by means of any signal?”
“Certainly.”
“What did you do?”
“I motioned her to go ahead.”
“How?”
“By waving my arm.”
“Just what do you mean, by waving your arm, Mrs. Cool?”
Bertha thrust her arm out and made a series of circular motions.
“Let the records show,” Mysgart said, “that Mrs. Cool at this point extends her left arm and makes a series of circular motions — motions which go higher than her head when the arm is elevated, and down almost to the floor when the arm is lowered. That’s right, Mrs. Cool?”