STANDISH. Are you sure of that?
WALES. I offered it.
TRENT. You?
WALES. Yes. What sort of a man do you think I am? Do you expect me to
sit still and let the murderers of Spencer Lee go free? Why, I'd known
the man all his life. We were the closest friends.
WILLIAM. But if he was the kind of a man that Standish says--
WALES. I don't give a damn what he was. He was my friend, and I'm never
going to rest till I find out who killed him.
TRENT. But.
WALES. I wouldn't care so much if they'd given the poor devil half a
chance for his life, but they stabbed him in the back.
MASON. Wasn't there any indication--
WALES. There wasn't a thing to show who did it, or how it was done. A
knife-wound between the shoulder-blades and no knife ever found. Nothing
stolen, nothing disturbed. The police have found out that a young woman
called to see him that afternoon, two or three hours before his body was
discovered. That's all that we know.
TRENT (_with a laugh--still seated in circle_). And now you're going to
try spiritualism?
WALES. Why not? (_There is a pause._) Do any of you object?
TRENT. Certainly not. I'm rather for it.
MASON (_rises, still on_ L. _of table_ R.). You are doing this
seriously? This is not a joke?
WALES. Quite seriously. (_There is a pause._) Well, why won't somebody
laugh?
CROSBY.
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