Chapter 14
The greatest tragedies in the world, provided they happen to
other people, have singularly little effect upon the externals of
our own lives. There was certainly not a soul in Soto’s that night
who did not know that Bobby Fairfax had been arrested in the bar
below for the murder of Victor Bidlake, had taken poison and died
on the way to the police station. Yet the same number of dinners
were ordered and eaten, the same quantity of wine drunk. The
management considered that they had shown marvellous delicacy of
feeling by restraining the orchestra from their usual musical
gymnastics until after the service of dinner. Conversation, in
consequence, buzzed louder than ever. One speculation in particular
absorbed the attention of every single person in the room— why had
