He failed to see any connection between Sir Gilbert and the Berwick mysteries and murders; it was ridiculous to suppose it.

As for the yacht incident, he admitted it looked at least strange; but, he added, with a half-apologetic glance at me, he would like to hear Sir Gilbert's version of that affair before he himself made up his mind about it.
"If we can lay hands on him, you'll be hearing his version from the dock!" retorted Mr.Lindsey.

"Your natural love of letting things go smoothly, Portlethorpe, is leading you into strange courses! Man alive!--take a look at the whole thing from a dispassionate attitude! Since the fellow got hold of the Hathercleugh property, he's sold everything, practically, but Hathercleugh itself; he's lost no time in converting the proceeds--a couple of hundred thousand pounds!--into foreign securities, which, says yon man Paley, are convertible into cash at any moment in any market! Something occurs--we don't know what, yet--to make him insecure in his position; without doubt, it's mixed up with Phillips and Gilverthwaite, and no doubt, afterwards, with Crone.

This lad here accidentally knows something which might be fatal--Carstairs tries, having, as I believe, murdered Crone, to drown Moneylaws! And what then?
It's every evident that, after leaving Moneylaws, he ran his yacht in somewhere on the Scottish coast, and turned her adrift; or, which is more likely, fell in with that fisher-fellow Robertson at Largo, and bribed him to tell a cock-and-bull tale about the whole thing--made his way to Edinburgh next morning, and possessed himself of the rest of his securities, after which, he clears out, to be joined somewhere by his wife, who, if what Hollins told us last night is true--and it no doubt is,--carried certain valuables off with her! What does it look like but that he's an impostor, who's just made all he can out of the property while he'd the chance, and is now away to enjoy his ill-gotten gains?
That's what I'm saying, Portlethorpe--and I insist on my common-sense view of it!" "And I say it's just as common-sense to insist, as I do, that it's all capable of proper and reasonable explanation!" retorted Mr.Portlethorpe.
"You're a good hand at drawing deductions, Lindsey, but you're bad in your premises! You start off by asking me to take something for granted, and I'm not fond of mental gymnastics.

If you'd be strictly logical--" They went on arguing like that, one against the other, for a good hour, and it seemed to me that the talk they were having would have gone on for ever, indefinitely, if, on the stroke of noon, Mr.Gavin Smeaton had not walked in on us.