The Warden looked at him quickly; he presented her with an innocent profile, drooping and contemplative over his plate, like a heron brooding by a pond.
‘A very apt illustration,’ said the Warden; ‘as it happens, I am tone-deaf myself.’
‘Are you? I thought you might be,’ he said, equably.
‘That is very interesting. How can you tell?’
‘There is something in the quality of the voice.’ He offered candid grey eyes for examination. ‘But it’s not a very safe conclusion to draw, and, as you may have noticed, I didn’t draw it. That is the art of the charlatan—to induce a confession and present it as the result of deduction.’
‘I see,’ said Dr. Baring. ‘You expose your technique very frankly.’
‘You would have seen through it in any case, so it is better to expose one’s self and acquire an unme
