«Sir James Hodges'.»
«Ah! yes — he was a sad loss to the medical profession. A really great man — a true scientist. Yes. Thank you. Now I should like to try you with this little invention.»
«What's it do?»
«Well — it tells me about your nervous reactions. Will you sit here?»
The examination that followed was purely medical. When it was concluded, Sir Julian said:
«Now, Lord Peter, I'll tell you about yourself in quite untechnical language —»
«Thanks,» said Peter, «that's kind of you. I'm an awful fool about long words.»
«Yes. Are you fond of private theatricals, Lord Peter?»
«Not particularly,» said Peter, genuinely surprised. «Awful bore as a rule. Why?»
«I thought you might be,» said the specialist, drily. «Well, now. You know quite well that the strain you put on your nerves during the war has left its mark on you. It has left what I may call old wounds in your brain. Sensations received by your nerve-endings sent messages to your brain, and produced minute physical changes there — changes we are only beginning to be able to detect, even with our most delicate instruments. These changes in their turn set up sensations; or I should say, more accurately, that sensations are the names we give to these changes of tissue when we perceive them: we call them horror, fear, sense of responsibility and so on.»