“No; they had got him in a room by himself—the caterer's men had.”
“And you found him there?”
“Mr. Westover found him there,” Jeff answered.
“I don't understand.”
“Didn't he come to you after I left?”
“Yes.”
“I told him to excuse me—”
“He didn't.”
“Well, I guess he was pretty badly rattled.” Jeff stopped himself in the vague laugh of one who remembers something ludicrous, and turned his face away.
“Tell me what it was!” she demanded, nervously.