Carstairs lay down, crossed his paws and closed his eyes.
“Sure,” said Doan, “for a long while Big Tub’s disguise was perfect. He always had the Gestapo to fall back on, remember. Maybe he didn’t know quite as much as he should about biochemistry. Well, his mind was confused and had been ever since he left Hungary. The Gestapo had knocked a good part of his knowledge out of him. And suppose he didn’t look just exactly like the old Sley-Mynick. The Gestapo had disfigured him. And suppose he dodged people. The Gestapo had made him shy. Any possible slip he made, he could blame on the Gestapo, and no one would question him because his nerves were in such bad shape, poor man.”
“I noticed he was pretty jumpy,” Eric Trent said. He was standing talking to Doan but looking at and leaning close t
