"I didn't do it the night before, and I haven't done it since, but three days isn't really long enough for one to contract a habit, do you think?"
"I see. And you came downstairs together on Christmas Eve?"
"Arm in arm."
"Thank you, miss; that's all I wanted to know," said Hemingway.
Stephen, who had been frowningly regarding him, said: Just what are you driving at, Inspector?"
"Checking up on my facts, sir, that's all," Hemingway replied.
But when he saw Sergeant Ware, a few minutes later, he shook his head, and said: "No good. He took care to establish a cast-iron alibi all right."
"There you are, then!" said the Sergeant, not altogether disappointed.
"No, I'm not!" Hemingway replied with some asperity.
"On that evening, and on that evening only, Joseph made a point of holding forth to Miss Clare, while she was dressing for dinner, and if possible, I'm more than ever convinced that he's the man I'm after."