"The craze of notoriety, sir," he replied sadly. "The curse of the present age."
"What!" replied the headmaster.
"It is remarkable," proceeded Psmith placidly, with the impersonal touch of one lecturing on generalities, "how frequently, when a murder has been committed, one finds men confessing that they have done it when it is out of the question that they should have committed it. It is one of the most interesting problems with which anthropologists are confronted. Human nature—"
The headmaster interrupted.
"Smith," he said, "I should like to see you alone for a moment. Mr. Downing, might I trouble...? Adair, Jackson."
He made a motion toward the door.
When he and Psmith were alone, there was silence. Psmith leaned back comfortably in his chair. The headmaster tapped nervously with his foot on the floor.
"Er ... Smith."
"Sir?"
The headmaster seemed to have some difficulty in proceeding. He paused again. Then he went on.