“I didn’t listen, sir,” the butler answered. “I was just passing along the hall.”
“Did you hear Mr. Warren’s voice?” McWalsh demanded suddenly.
Austin reflected.
“I wouldn’t swear to it,” he decided.
“What time was it?” Warren asked.
“A little after ten,” said Austin.
“I left the house at eight, so you are not likely to have heard me. I was at Voisin’s from half past eight until nearly one. When did you first see this supposed friend?”
“I was going up the main stairway as he was about to come down toward me. Almost directly I saw him—and I didn’t at the time think he saw me—he turned back as if you had called him from your room. He said, ‘What is it, Connie?’ then he walked down the corridor and stood half way in your room talking to you as I supposed. He looked like a gentleman who might belong to your clubs, sir, and spoke like one. What was I to think?”
“I’m not blaming you,” said Conington Warren. “I’m as puzzled as you are. Didn’t Yogotama see him when he went to my room to get my smoking jacket which you say he wore? What was Yogotama doing to allow that sort of thing?”
“You forget, sir,” explained Austin, “that Yogotama wasn’t there.”