"Show you some more. Stand up! Stand up! I can't bear a drowsy man." And he kicked the chair half across the room. "Don't hang on to that table—stand on your legs," and grasping Richard by his shirt front he forced him into an upright position and held him there. His voice hardened and rasped like a cross cut file as question after question boomed out with the relentless quality of minute guns.
"A year ago you went travelling."
"You say so." The replies were barely audible.
"During that time you tumbled on your find."
"If I did, I did."
"When was it you struck?"
"That's my affair."
"I've made it mine. When was it you struck?"
"During the six months," said Richard with a twinkle of dying humour.
"That answer won't do."