The three men were seated in Sir Roger Glanedale's library awaiting the coming of Lady Glanedale.
"And yet Mr. Glanedale heard nothing," remarked Mr. Grimwood musingly. "Strange, very strange."
"Are you in the habit of sitting smoking at your bedroom window?" enquired Malcolm Sage of Glanedale, his eyes averted.
"Er—no, not exactly," was the hesitating response.
"Can you remember when last you did such a thing?" was the next question.
"I'm afraid I can't," said Glanedale, with an uneasy laugh.
"Perhaps you had seen something that puzzled you," continued Malcolm Sage, his restless fingers tracing an imaginary design upon the polished surface of the table before him.
Glanedale was silent. He fingered his moustache with a nervous hand.
Mr. Grimwood looked across at Malcolm Sage curiously.
"And you were watching in the hope of seeing something more," continued Malcolm Sage.
"I——" began Glanedale, starting violently, then he stopped.