"Mrs. Haddington went to see if Miss Cynthia was in the boudoir. It was then that Mr.. Poulton arrived, about 6.25, as near as I remember."
"Did Mrs. Haddington seem pleased to see him, or not?"
"Well, sir, I thought Mrs. Haddington was better pleased to see him than he was to be here. I doubt if Mr.. Poulton has ever been in the house above twice or three times. I had the impression that he did not care for Mrs. Haddington. But he is not a gentleman as shows his feelings. He asked for a private word with Mrs. Haddington, and she took him into the boudoir, and that was the last time I saw her alive."
"I see. Tell me once again exactly what happened when the boudoir bell rang!"
"When the bell rang," said the butler carefully, "I had of course been expecting it. I mounted the stairs from the basement, and when I reached the hall I saw Mr.. Poulton coming down the first flight."
"Was he in any way agitated? Did he seem quite as usual?"
"So far as I could judge, he did. But I don't know him well, and, as I say, he doesn't give anything away. He was coming quite slowly downstairs, nor he didn't hurry over putting on his coat. His car was waiting for him, and he drove off, as I told you."
"All right, that seems very clear," Hemingway said. "Did you say I would find Miss Birtley in the library?"
"Yes, sir. I could not take it upon myself to allow Miss Birtley to leave the house. Mrs. Foston is with her."
"All right, I know the way," Hemingway said.