“That’s right,” Guy said. “George is just the person, of course. The ordinary man is far more interesting than your sordid murderer for gain or your mentally kinked. The reactions of the ordinary man to murder! That’s the crux of the whole thing. And so few murderers are ordinary men, unfortunately. What do you imagine he’d do, Doyle? I believe the ordinary decent man would go straight to the nearest police-station and give himself up.” The light of argument kindled in Doyle’s eye. George’s heart sank. “That depends on the circumstances. You must postulate those first. Do you mean, if the murder was a more or less unpremeditated one, and without witnesses?” “Yes, certainly. Any circumstances you like. Your ordinary decent man’s impulse would be to give himself up at once.” “Not he!” retorted Mr. Doyle with much scorn. “If there are no witnesses and no evidence against him, he’s going to make one arrow-flight for home and safety.” “I don’t agree with you,” Guy hunched his head between his shoulders till he looked more like an ill-omened bird of prey than ever. His glasses and the top of his head shone with enjoyment. “I don’t agree with you. He wouldn’t stop to consider whether there was evidence or not. He’d assume that there must be; he’d take it for granted that he’d be found out. He’d give himself up, without hesitation. In a way, you see, it’s a shelving of responsibility, and the ordinary decent man avoids responsibility like the plague. Besides, he’d have too great a respect for the law.” “Your ordinary decent man sounds to me uncommonly like a spineless worm,” retorted Mr. Doyle. “Now this is what he probably _would_ do. . . .” The argument raged delectably. It continued to rage. It developed heat. George’s heart sank till it could sink no further. He poured himself out another glass of port and recklessly consumed it side by side with his cigar, an action that would have caused Guy in his saner moments the utmost pain and distress; as it was he never even noticed it. George squirmed, he wriggled, he writhed. Seven times he said, “I say!” and seven times said no more. “I say!” said George loudly for the eighth time. “I say, if you’re so jolly keen on knowing what the wretched chap would do, why on earth don’t you stage a murder and find out?” George had a large voice. In spite of their preoccupation his words penetrated into the minds of the other two. They actually stopped arguing to look at him. “Do what?” said Mr. Doyle. “What do you mean?” asked Guy.