The Colonel's words had troubled him more than he would have cared to let any one know.
"Woman or man or child," Mason remarked, "the person who did it seems to have vanished in some remarkable manner from the face of the earth." "He certainly seems," the Colonel admitted, "to have covered up his traces with admirable skill.

I have read every word of the evidence at the inquest, and I can understand that the police are completely confused." Heneage and Mason exchanged glances of quiet amusement whilst the Colonel helped himself to cheese.
"Dear old boy," the latter murmured, "he's off on his hobby.

Let him go on! He enjoys it more than anything in the world." Heneage nodded assent, and the Colonel returned to the subject with avidity a few moments later.
"This man Morris Barnes," he affirmed, "seems to have been a somewhat despicable, at any rate, a by no means desirable individual.

He was of Jewish origin, and he had not long returned from South Africa, where Heaven knows what his occupation was.

The money of which he was undoubtedly possessed he seems to have spent, or at any rate some part of it, in aping the life of a dissipated man about town.