"It surprises me—that's all—a man of your intellect, your originality."
She sighed, marvelling at this addition to life's conundrums.
"Why?" he asked, bluntly.
"I should never have thought you'd put yourself in that position before the public. I mean, letting him lead you around by the nose—figuratively."
Mr. Crown started forward in his chair, eyes popped. He was indignant and surprised.
"Is that what they're saying?" he demanded.
"Naturally," she said, and with the one word laid it down as an impossibility that "they" could have said anything else. "That's what the reporters tell me."
"Well, I'll be—dog-goned!" The knuckle-like chin dropped. "They're saying that, are they?"
Disturbed as he was, he noticed that she regarded him with apparently genuine interest—that, perhaps, she added to her interest a regret that he had displayed no originality in the investigation, a man of his intellect!