WALES. Yes. What sort of a man do you think I am? Do you expect me to sit still and let the murderers of Spencer Lee go free? Why, I'd known the man all his life. We were the closest friends.
WILLIAM. But if he was the kind of a man that Standish says—
WALES. I don't give a damn what he was. He was my friend, and I'm never going to rest till I find out who killed him.
TRENT. But.
WALES. I wouldn't care so much if they'd given the poor devil half a chance for his life, but they stabbed him in the back.
MASON. Wasn't there any indication—
WALES. There wasn't a thing to show who did it, or how it was done. A knife-wound between the shoulder-blades and no knife ever found. Nothing stolen, nothing disturbed. The police have found out that a young woman called to see him that afternoon, two or three hours before his body was discovered. That's all that we know.
TRENT (with a laugh—still seated in circle). And now you're going to try spiritualism?
WALES. Why not? (There is a pause.) Do any of you object?
TRENT. Certainly not. I'm rather for it.