There was a brief, electric silence into which the modulated voice of Landis smoothly inserted itself. “Please continue your story, Miss Mount,” he requested.
She turned to look at Landis, a faintly speculative gleam in her eyes. He was all courteous attention.
“Very well. After lunch the young people went off in the two roadsters to the yacht club and I occupied myself with household affairs and some sewing.”
“Where was Mr. Harrison’s brother, Joel?” inquired Bernard as quietly as before.
“I believe he was out almost all day. He sometimes goes for long rambles and stays away for lunch.”
Bernard nodded in a slow, noncommittal way.
“Mr. Harrison,” continued Miss Mount, “returned a little after six and went to his room as usual, I suppose.”
“Didn’t you see him?” asked Landis.
“No. I was in my room in the wing. But my windows face the front of the house and I saw Harley drive the town car around to the garage at the end of the wing.”