"And none of the neighbors saw Arnold coming out?"
"They all shake their heads and say no, they don't know that face."
"Very well. Jacob may put them in his desk. We shall hardly need them again. Go over to the second session and answer for me in the Morrow case. I am expecting Mr. McCausland."
"Speak of angels," said the inspector, entering cordially. "You know the rest of the saying."
"Good-morning. Be seated."
It did not escape even modest Saul Aronson what a contrast the antagonists made, sitting with the table between them. McCausland had, apparently, not glanced around with more than casual interest, yet, if blindfolded then and there and put to the test, he could have surprised those who did not know him with the minute and copious inventory of the office, not excluding its occupants, which this glance had furnished him. It was this, with his almost infallible memory, which made him so formidable an opponent at whist. Shagarach was hardly his equal in mere perception, perhaps not his superior in analysis, when the subject was within McCausland's range. His advantage lay, if anywhere, as he had said himself, in his deeper insight into the human soul, in his psychological reach.
"Sorry I was out when you called the other day," said McCausland. "I've been looking up your matter."
"With what result?"
"These clippings may interest you."
Shagarach glanced rapidly over the newspaper scraps.