“Yes, sir. At about ten o’clock.”
“Did you see them again, or overhear any of their remarks while they waited here in the drawing-room?”
“No, sir. I was busy in Mr. Arnesson’s quarters most of the morning.”
“Ah!” Vance turned his eyes on the man. “That would be on the second floor rear, wouldn’t it?—the room with the balcony?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Most interestin’. . . . And it was from that balcony that Professor Dillard first saw Mr. Robin’s body.—How could he have entered the room without your knowing it? You said, I believe, that your first intimation of the tragedy was when the professor called you from the library and told you to seek Mr. Sperling.”
The butler’s face turned a pasty white, and I noticed that his fingers twitched nervously.
“I might have stepped out of Mr. Arnesson’s room for a moment,” he explained, with effort. “Yes—it’s quite likely. In fact, sir, I recall going to the linen-closet. . . .”
“Oh, to be sure.” Vance lapsed into lethargy.
Markham smoked a while, his gaze concentrated on the table-top.