Hadley stood before the dying fire, a stiff military figure against the white-marble mantelpiece, and in his hand were the notes he had taken of Dalrye's recital. Hadley hesitated. There were lines drawn slantwise under his eyes; he shut his eyes now.
'I told you,' he said, quietly, 'I was getting old. I am sworn to uphold the law. But I don't know. I don't know. The older I get, the more I don't know. Ten-years, ago I should have said, "Too bad, and… You know what I'm thinking, Fell. No jury would ever believe that boy's testimony: But I do.'
`And without speaking of Lester Bitton,' said the doctor, `the case can remain unsolved. Good man, Hadley! You know what I think. If this is a tribunal, will you put it up to a vote?'
`Lord help me,' said Hadley, `I will. Well, Fell?' He assumed a stern air, but a curious, wise, ancient smile crept about his mouth. `Dr Fell, your vote?'"Unsolved," he said.`Mr Rampole?'
"Unsolved,"' said Rampole instantly.
The dying firelight lit Hadley's face as he half turned.; He upturned his hand; the white note-sheets fluttered from it and drifted down into the blaze. They caught fire and leaped in a puff. Hadley's hand remained motionless, the ancient, wise smile still on his face.
"Unsolved," ' he said.