"Quite right. But the woman was killed before nine, and during that hour Calvert was engaged at the theatre."
"That's true enough," said the professor gloomily, "all the same it seems queer. I believe he is guilty."
"Hush!" said Jasher, looking round uneasily; "don't talk so loud. You never know who may hear. Keep to generalities. Ah, here is Hart."
"The young man who came to the supper-table was a languid and fashionable youth, who, having run through his money, had gone on the stage to delight the public. As yet he had not made a success, and, judging from his looks, never would. Having got into trouble over some gambling debt, he had enlisted the services of Jasher. That astute gentleman had managed to settle the affair, and Hart was consequently willing to be friendly. He sat down with a bored air, and declared that he was almost dead. He acknowledged his introduction to Bocaros with a slight and supercilious nod.
"You work too hard," said Jasher, when Mr. Hart was engaged in eating.
"It's hard work hanging round the theatre waiting for a chance," said the other.
"You have got one," said the detective; "ain't you engaged at the Frivolity Theatre?"
"Only as Calvert's understudy," said the discontented youth. "I have to be at the theatre waiting for my chance should he fall ill. He's too clever to let me go on, and he can't act a bit. I could make a magnificent part of the one he spoils." And Hart began to explain the lines upon which he would--as he put it--create the part.
"Have you never had an opportunity of playing?" asked the professor, piling up little bits of bread in a listless manner.
"I had once," said Hart frankly, "but just my bad luck. I messed up the chance."