"He did not."
"Swab!" said Felicity, without heat.
When Amberley arrived at Norton Manor it was about half-past nine and a beautifully clear night. The manor was bathed in moonlight, with sharp black shadows thrown out along the ground. The house looked unfriendly, for the curtains were closely drawn and no welcoming light shone from any window.
Amberley was admitted by Collins and conducted to the library at the side of the house. He found his host alone, awaiting him.
Fountain apologised for dragging him out at this hour, but said in excuse that he had only heard from the chief constable that afternoon that he had taken the case on. It appeared that there was something he thought Amberley ought to know about the deceased butler.
He broke off as Collins came back into the room with the coffee-tray and waited while the valet offered this to Amberley. But he did not, for once, seem to mind Collins' hearing what he had to say, for he added, as he lifted the big globe-like liqueur glass, from the tray: "I've been speaking to Collins about what I'm going to tell you, but unfortunately he can't help us much. I rather hoped he might have known more than I do. But he tells me Dawson seldom mentioned his affairs in the servants' hall."
Amberley glanced towards the valet's impassive countenance. "Did he give you the impression that he had anything to hide?"
Collins answered in his smooth, expressionless voice: "No, sir. But I fear I did not consider the matter. We were not very friendly."
"When you say that you were not very friendly do you mean that you disliked one another?"
"Oh dear me, no, sir, nothing of that kind," replied Collins. "If there had ever been unpleasantness I could not have remained in service at the manor."