Hemingway said sympathetically: "I get it. Violent kind of man, was he?"
The valet grinned. "I believe you!"
The Inspector, who had once read Ford's original testimony, had a disconcertingly good memory, and, having lured the valet into making this admission, pounced on it. "Oh! Then how is it that you told Inspector Colwall that he wasn't a hard master, but that you got on well with him, and liked the place?"
Ford changed colour, but said staunchly: "Well, it was true enough. I wouldn't call him hard exactly. He was all right when no one had upset him. I've been here nine months, anyway, and not given in my notice, which is more than any of his other valets did, by all accounts. He liked me, you see. I never had any unpleasantness. Not to say real unpleasantness."
"He never threw his boots at you, I suppose?"
"I don't mind that," Ford said. "I mean, it didn't happen often. Just a bit of temper. I could generally manage him."
"You could generally manage him, but you were scared to go into his room without his sending for you?"
"Well, he wouldn't have liked that. I didn't set out to get on the wrong side of him, naturally. I knew he was in one of his bad moods. He didn't like Miss Paula bringing Mr. Roydon down here."
"Was that what had put him out?"
"That, and something Mr. Mottisfont had done. He was grumbling on about it yesterday morning, while I was helping him to get dressed."