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Gently chuckled as he straighted up. His eye had that far-distant look which came at moments when mystery was ceasing to be mystery, when the picture he sought had begun to take shape.
...
As for motive, that’s always a tricky business. You and I know, if judges don’t, that nobody’s quite sane when they come to do a murder.

Gently stood still, staring at it. He was getting depressed and irritated by this perpetual check-mating. At every turn a contradiction was slapped across his face, a twit given to his intolerable ignorance. Was he going to fall down on this case? Had he run into a plan which was going to circumvent him, in all his wisdom?

In the morning things looked brighter. They had a tendency to do so over Mrs Grey’s breakfast-table. Also, Gently noticed once more, the mind had a way of sorting things out while one was asleep … you went to bed with a problem and woke up with a new slant on it. Or a better attitude, which was sometimes as good.

‘Tingere barbam non potes,’ murmured Gently oracularly.
‘Eh?’ gaped Hansom.
‘Never mind – it’s a classical tag I picked up somewhere.
['You cannot dye your beard' > a quote from Martial's Epigrams Book IV Epigram XXXVI To Olus "Your beard is white, Olus, your hair is black. The reason is, that you cannot dye your beard, though you can dye your hair." - means you cannot disguise/hide everything about yourself?]