“Why didn’t you hit him with a chair?”
“You can talk,” Mike said. “He’d have knocked you out, too. I never saw him hit me. I rather think I saw him just before, and then quite suddenly I was sitting down in the street, and Jake was lying under a table.”
“Where did he go afterward?” I asked.
“Here she is,” Mike said. “Here’s the beautiful lady with the beer.”
The chambermaid put the tray with the beer-bottles and glasses down on the table.
“Now bring up three more bottles,” Mike said.
“Where did Cohn go after he hit me?” I asked Bill.
“Don’t you know about that?” Mike was opening a beer-bottle. He poured the beer into one of the glasses, holding the glass close to the bottle.
“Really?” Bill asked.
“Why he went in and found Brett and the bullfighter chap in the bullfighter’s room, and then he massacred the poor, bloody bullfighter.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“What a night!” Bill said.
“He nearly killed the poor, bloody bullfighter. Then Cohn wanted to take Brett away. Wanted to make an honest woman of her, I imagine. Damned touching scene.”