“It must have been about quarter to six, for I was home at six.”
“And Miss Lindsay was there when you left.”
“Oh, yes, she was there when I left.”
And then, Philip Barry’s secret fear was confirmed.
CHAPTER XIII—Philip and Phyllis
Philip Barry, though of the artistic temperament common to his calling, had also a businesslike instinct that prompted him to straight-forward measures in any case where he was specially interested.
And he was deeply interested in learning that Phyllis had been at Gleason’s rooms the afternoon of the murder, and he wanted the matter cleared up to his own satisfaction.
Wherefore, he went to Phyllis herself and inquired concerning it.
“Were you at Mr Gleason’s that day?” was his somewhat direct way of opening the conversation.
They were alone, in the Lindsays’ library, and Phyllis, looking demure enough in a little white house gown, was in perverse mood.