George's foot pressed lightly against mine.
"What do you mean—'attack' you?" he asked with fine simulation of surprise.
"He attacked me," Beresford persisted doggedly. "He knocked me down." His eyes closed once more. "Where's Sonia?" he asked again.
"She's staying with friends," George answered. "I say, I shouldn't talk too much, if I were you. You're looking rather cheap, and I hear you've been pretty bad."
For the first time Beresford was able to twist his features into a malevolent grin.
"I'm putting on weight again now," he boasted. "You'd look cheap, if you'd gone through what I have."
"How long were you in prison?" I asked.
Beresford sighed and shook his head.
"I don't know. I was unconscious for some days at the end. They arrested me on the third, the trial was on—I forget...." He lowered himself till he was lying full length on the sofa.
"They arrested you on the fourth, you say," I began with a glance at George.