“I chatted for a few minutes with Prescott over the amazing luck he had ... then I went upstairs to bed.”
“Prescott go with you?”
“N-no! He gave me the impression he had something he wished to do.”
“That’s so,” I interjected again, “I spoke to him as I went up, and I gathered something similar.”
“Then you went straight to bed?”
“Yes!”
“Didn’t speak to anybody after you got upstairs to your bedroom?”
“No—yes, I did,” correcting himself. “I sang out ‘good-night’ to Hornby, Robertson and Cunningham here. If you call that speaking to people.”
“The three of them? Where were they?”
“Not exactly to them, Inspector, but as I passed their bedroom doors. I walked down the corridor and called out ‘good-night’ to them as I went. See?”