“If Mr. Lambert will put a definite question to me I’ll see whether I can give him a definite answer,” replied Mr. Ives, looking entirely unchastened and remotely diverted.
“Very well,” said Lambert, choking with ill-concealed wrath. “Will you be so kind as to tell us whether anything out of the ordinary occurred during that evening, Mr. Ives?”
“No.”
“Before dinner?”
“No.”
“After dinner?”
“No.”
Mr. Ives flung him the monosyllables like so many very bare bones tossed at a large, hungry, snapping dog.
“Miss Page testified that she met you at the nursery door with a ship model in your hand at about eight o’clock. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”