“What time did you part from the Mackwaytes at the theatre last night?”
Desmond was dumbfounded. How on earth did the Chief know about his visit to the Palaceum? Still, he was used to the omniscience of the British Intelligence, so he answered promptly:
“It was latish, sir; about midnight, I think!”
“They went home to Seven Kings alone!”
“Yes, sir, in a taxi!” Desmond replied.
The Chief contemplated his blotting-pad gloomily. Desmond knew it for a trick of his when worried.
“Did you have a good night?” he said to Desmond, suddenly.
“Yes,” he said, not in the least understanding the drift of the question. “... though I didn’t mean to get up quite so early!”
The Chief ignored this sally.
“Nothing out of the ordinary happened during the night, I suppose?” he asked again.