"The next day, Thursday, Mrs. Fane would be feel-in' awful ill and upset after what she'd been through. When she felt like that, she ate nothin' but grapefruit. All he had to do was hang about with a little heap of poison in his hand until he saw his opportunity."
Sharpless interposed.
"But what opportunity, sir? I carried the damned grapefruit up to her, and I can swear—"
"Oh, no, you can't, son. Lemme ask you a question. You carried a tray. What was on that tray?"
"The grapefruit, in a glass dish, and a spoon."
"Yes. What else?"
"Nothing but the sugar-bowl."
"That's right. As you were walkin' through the hall, Hubert passed you and stepped up in front of you. Didn't he?"
"Only for a fraction of a second. I didn't stop. I—" "All right. And what did Hubert say? He said,
'Grapefruit, eh?' Didn't he? And what else did he do?