The Murder of Roger Ackroyd / Убийство Роджера Экройда

‘No, no, it is not the insanity that I suffer from. Make your mind easy. It was a foolish question that I put to you there, for, you see, my friend of whom I spoke was a young man, a man who thought all women good, and most of them beautiful. But you are a man of middle age, a doctor, a man who knows the folly and the vanity of most things in this life of ours. Well, well, we are neighbours. I beg of you to accept and present to your excellent sister my best marrow.’

He stooped, and with a flourish produced an immense specimen of the tribe, which I duly accepted in the spirit in which it was offered.

‘Indeed,’ said the little man cheerfully, ‘this has not been a wasted morning. I have made the acquaintance of a man who in some ways resembles my far-off friend. By the way, I should like to ask you a question. you doubtless know everyone in this tiny village. Who is the young man with the very dark hair and eyes, and the handsome face. he walks with his head flung back, and an easy smile on his lips?’