"Good afternoon," Harding returned. "I have one in two questions I want to ask you concerning your movements yesterday morning, Mr. Guest."
"Carry on," said Guest, feeling in one coat-pocket for his pipe and tobacco-pouch. He settled himself at ease in his chair and began in a methodical way to fill his pipe.
"Can you remember just what you were doing up till twelve o'clock?"
Guest smiled slightly. "Rather a tall order, Inspector. I don't think I did anything in particular. I read the papers, knocked the billiard balls about a bit, and went out to sit on the terrace — round about eleven-thirty, I should say. Halliday was with me: he might know the exact time."
"Then it was not because you had something particular to do that you told the footman he need not be in a hurry to pack your bag, as you had changed your mind and were not leaving by the early train?"
Guest struck a match, and waited for it to burn a little way up the stick before holding it to his pipe. "No," he said.
"What did induce you to change your mind, Mr. Guest?"
Stephen Guest puffed at his pipe, and pressed the tobacco down with one spatulate finger. "I thought I might as well travel up with the Hallidays on the afternoon train," he replied.
Harding glanced up from the paper in his hand. "There had been, before breakfast, some unpleasantness between Sir Arthur and Lady Billington-Smith, I think?"
"So I believe," replied Guest uncommunicatively.