I cannot try to describe the impression his words produced.

 

There was something in the merciless analysis, and the ruthless power of vision

which struck fear into both of us.

 

“Afterwards,” he went on softly, “the danger removed, he will be himself again,

normal, kindly. But if the need again arises, then once more he will strike.”

 

Caroline roused herself at last.

 

“You are speaking of Ralph Paton,” she said. “You may be right, you may not, but

you have no business to condemn a man unheard.”

 

The telephone bell rang sharply. I went out into the hall, and took off the

receiver.

 

“What?” I said. “Yes. Dr. Sheppard speaking.”

 

I listened for a minute or two, then replied briefly. Replacing the receiver, I

went back into the drawing-room.

 

“Poirot,” I said, “they have detained a man at Liverpool. His name is Charles

Kent, and he is believed to be the stranger who visited Fernly that night. They

want me to go to Liverpool at once and identify him.”