"I'm better now," said Mr Verneede, placing the jug, half empty, on the floor, and passing his hand across his brow.
"Then go on and tell me all about it."
Verneede had no recollection of anything at all save a few more or less unpleasant incidents. He remembered the "Spotted Dog," the "King's Arms"; he remembered streets; he remembered being turned out of somewhere.
"Tell you about what?"
"Good gracious—about the Lamberts, of course. What time did you get there?"
"Half-past two, I think."
"You couldn't; you only left the studio at two."
"Half-past four, I mean; yes, it was half-past four."
"When did you leave?"
Verneede scratched his head.