"Telephone extensions?" She stopped. "I don't …"
"I know, I know. But just tell me: how many telephones are there?"
"Three. The one on the desk beside you, and one out in the hall, and one up in our bedroom."
"Now, ma'am," pursued H.M., examining his fingers, "we haven't done much of this where-were-you-at-such-and-suchan-hour in this case, because we don't know enough. But I'm goin' to ask you one question about that. Where were you about three hours ago? To be exact, where were you at one thirty?"
The blue eyes widened. "My God, there hasn't been any more-?"
"No more murderin', no. Now, now, take it easy and think. Where were you at one-thirty?"
"Why… in our bedroom, I should think. You remember, they brought me back from Moreton Abbot about midnight. You had the house full of people, so there wasn't anywhere I could go but to my bedroom. I've been there ever since, except when I've been down here with you being questioned. One-thirty!" she considered. "Stop a bit. Yes, I remember, because I was looking at the clock and thinking how long the night was and how I couldn't sleep."
"And you didn't make any 'phone calls?'
"No. Phone calls! Why should I?"
"Was there anybody with you in your room, ma'am?'