"No. Not till now. Anything you'd like to know, or can I withdraw?"
"It'll save time, sir, if you'll give an account of your movements between the time you and the deceased left the dining-room, and 10.05 p.m."
"Well, I went to the billiard-room, and knocked the balls about a bit."
"Alone, sir?"
"Yes, but my aunt came to find me, so I left."
"Your aunt?"
"Miss Fletcher," interpolated the butler. "The master's sister, Mr. Glass."
"You left the billiard-room with your aunt, sir? Did you remain with her?"
"No. Which all goes to show that politeness always pays. I silently faded away, and now I'm sorry, because if I'd accompanied her to the drawing-room I should have had an alibi, which I haven't got. I went upstairs to my own room, and read a book. I wonder if I can have fallen asleep over it?" He looked doubtfully towards his uncle's chair, and gave a faint shudder. "No, my God, I couldn't dream anything like this! It's fantastic."
"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Glass, I fancy that was the front-door bell," interrupted Simmons, moving towards the door.