"
Keith felt his blood running cold as he saw in the inspector's face the
thing which he did not put more plainly in word. He was shocked. He
drew his hand from McDowell's grip almost fiercely.
"Impossible!" he cried. "Yes, you are mad. Such a thing would be
inconceivable!"
"And yet I have told myself that it is possible," said McDowell. His
face was returning into its iron-like mask. His two hands gripped the
arms of his chair, and he stared at Keith again as if he were looking
through him at something else, and to that something else he seemed to
speak, slowly, weighing and measuring each word before it passed his
lips. "I am not superstitious. It has always been a law with me to have
conviction forced upon me. I do not believe unusual things until
investigation proves them. I am making an exception in the case of Shan
Tung. I have never regarded him as a man, like you and me, but as a
sort of superphysical human machine possessed of a certain
psychological power that is at times almost deadly. Do you begin to
understand me? I believe that he has exerted the whole force of that
influence upon Miriam Kirkstone--and she has surrendered to it. I
believe--and yet I am not positive.
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