Satterthwaite soothed him with a gesture.
“We’re coming to that presently. Answer my questions now—and afterward you can put any questions to me that you like. Now—try and remember!”
Tremaine relapsed sullenly. It was evident that he was secretly conscious of the inferiority in which his absence of memory placed him. His eyes sought the young woman as though to elicit some key-point of remembrance, came back empty.
“Well?” he said, with suspicious ill-humour.
Satterthwaite was courtesy itself.
“Now, think! Carry your mind back! You were in the Army, weren’t you?”
“Of course!”
“You remember that—perfectly?”
“Yes—of course I do!” His tone was impatient.
“Good! You remember being in France?”