"Dead? Dead? That young Norse God in the prime of his health and strength. Struck down all in a moment. Healthy young men didn't die like that, choking over a whiskey and soda..."
"If this had been an old house, with creaking wood, and dark shadows, and heavily panelled walls, there might have been an eerie feeling. But this house was the essence of modernity. There were no dark corners - no possible sliding panels - it was flooded with electric light - everything was new and bright and shining. There was nothing hidden in this house, nothing concealed. It had no atmosphere about it."
"He remembered exactly how he had felt sitting there - listening, making notes, appreciating everything, tabulating every scrap of evidence that told against the prisoner."
What should the decision be...??
"Downstairs in the dining-room, Rogers stood puzzled. He was staring at the china figures in the centre of the table. He muttered to himself: "That's a rum go! I could have sworn there were ten of them."
"He'd sent Richmond deliberately to death. Only a miracle could have brought him through unhurt. That miracle didn't happen. Yes, he'd sent Richmond to his death and he wasn't sorry. It had been easy enough. Mistakes were being made all the time, officers being sent to death needlessly. All was confusion, panic. People might say afterwards, "Old Macarthur lost his nerve a bit, made some colossal blunders, sacrificed some of his best men." They couldn't say more."
"She thought to herself: "It's horrible -just like us this evening..." Why had Anthony Marston wanted to die? She didn't want to die. She couldn't imagine wanting to die... Death was for - the other people..."