There was a moment of dramatic silence, while Dr. Wallace stood smiling at them, waiting for the effect of his strategy to sink in.
“Had I attached undue importance to the question,” Dr. Wallace went on to explain, “the man would have sensed that I was placing too much emphasis on it, and unconsciously would have known why. Thereupon the temporary paralysis of the memory function would have been aggravated by a process of self-consciousness, just as we sometimes encounter in bad cases of stage-fright. We—”
“Never mind that,” Mason interrupted. “ Did. he recover his memory?”
“Yes,” Dr. Wallace said, the tone of his monosyllabic answer a rebuke to the lawyer’s abruptness.
“Did he remember his name?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have to tell him his name or did he remember it of his own accord?”
“He remembered it of his own accord,” Dr. Wallace said with dignity. “If you will permit me to give you a complete report, I think you will get the picture a little more accurately.”
“Go ahead,” Mason said, pulling his cigarette case from his pocket. Drake looked around the room, sighed, dropped into a chair, propped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
“When I asked him how things were in Altaville,” Dr. Wallace said, “I took particular pains to make my question casual. His answer was equally casual. I asked him if he knew the President of the First National Bank in Altaville, and he said he did, said he knew him quite well. We chatted along for a moment, and I asked him just where he lived in Altaville. He gave me an address which coincided with that on his driving license. I asked him his name. He told me. By degrees I brought him up to the accident, and then he remembered it perfectly.”