“You’ve answered Inspector Baddeley’s questions so nicely,” he continued, with a smile charming enough to put any member of the gentler sex at her ease—“that I’m going to ask you to answer some of mine.” His smile expanded.
Marshall eyed him doubtfully, but seemed to relax a bit.
He scanned her face deliberately—then I saw him hesitate as though puzzled by something. His eyes searched her, seeking. And his glance grew more penetrative in its quality. Something about her was causing him a difficulty. But he threw it off.
“You had done some work this morning, before you went to the billiard room?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Would you mind telling me what work?”
“I had swept two rooms, done a bit of general tidying-up and polished the floor of the dining-room.”
“Had you polished the dining-room floor just before you went to the billiard room?”
“Yes, sir—just before!”
“What with?” Anthony’s voice was tense and eager.