“He was alone.”
“Did he show you a letter which he was then writing?” inquired Douglas at a venture, and was startled at the effect of his question on Winthrop. The latter whitened perceptibly, and pulled his short black mustache to hide his twitching lips.
“I know nothing about any letter,” he stammered.
Brett did not press the point, but asked instead: “Where did you spend last night?”
“I dined here with my mother and cousin.”
“And afterwards?” put in Douglas.
“I went to the Alibi Club soon after dinner.”
“How late did you stay there?”
“Most of the night,” was the evasive reply.
“Please mention the exact hour you left the club,” persisted Brett.