The charge, astounding almost to grotesqueness in the eyes of Sir Anthony, and rousing him to mere wrath, deprived me of the power of speech.

For I knew, in that dreadful instant, that the man's words contained some elements of truth.
All the pieces of the puzzle that had worried me at odd times for months fitted themselves together in a vivid flash.

Boyce and Althea! I had never dreamed of associating their names.

That association was the key of the puzzle.

Out of the darkness disturbing things shone clear.
Boyce's abrupt retirement from Wellingsford before the war; his cancellation by default of his engagement; his morbid desire, a year ago, to keep secret his presence in his own house; Gedge's veiled threat to me in the street to use a way "that'll knock all you great people of Wellingsford off your high horses;" his extraordinary interview with Boyce; his generally expressed hatred of Boyce.