After lunch, Miss Wardlow escorted Weeks into the ward.
“You’re looking remarkably well,” he said to Leander.
“Thank you. I do believe I feel better than I look.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to endure this again.”
“It’s not your fault,” Leander said. “I suppose they did what his wife would like to do to me.”
Weeks was very serious. “No, it’s my fault. I should’ve asked for an order for a private cell after the last assault and I didn’t. The decision nearly cost you your life.”
“I suppose I think it’s what I signed up for,” Leander said.
“No, you didn’t sign up for this assault, this abuse. I’ve also asked for a recess of six full weeks until you’re completely recovered enough to return to court.”
“Was it approved?”
“Yes.” There were a few moments of silence before Weeks continu
