“The gong had sounded for tea,” the detective went on imperturbably; “surely it would have been more natural for you to have brought Miss Trevert with you?” “I didn’t wish to!” Mr. Manderton cleared his throat. “Ah!” he grunted. “You didn’t wish to. I should like you to be frank with me, Mr. Greve, please. Was it not a fact that you and Miss Trevert had words?” He looked up sharply at him with contracted pupils. “You took a certain interest in this young lady?” “Mr. Manderton,”—Robin spoke with a certain _hauteur_,—“don’t you think we might leave Miss Trevert’s name out of this?” “Mr. Greve,” replied the detective bluntly, “I don’t!” Robin made a little gesture of resignation. “Before the servants....” “Come, come, sir,” the detective broke in, “with all respect to the young lady and yourself, it was a matter of common knowledge in the house that she and you were ... well, old friends. It was remarked, Mr. Greve, I may remind you, that you looked very upset-like when you left the billiard-room to”—he paused perceptibly—“to go for your stroll in the dark.” Robin glanced quickly round the group. Jay averted his eyes. As for Bude, he was the picture of embarrassment. “You seem to be singularly well posted in the gossip of the servants’ hall, Mr. Manderton!” said Robin hotly. It was a foolish remark, and Robin regretted it the moment the words had left his mouth. “Well, yes,” commented the detective slowly, “I am. I shall be well posted on the whole of this case, presently, I hope, sir!” His manner was perfectly respectful, but reserved almost to a tone of menace. “In that case,” said Robin, “I’ll tell you something you don’t know, Mr. Manderton. Has Bude told you what he heard after I had passed him in the hall?” Interest flashed at once into the detective’s face. He turned quickly to the butler. Robin felt he had scored. “What did you hear?” he said sharply. Bude looked round wildly. His large, fish-like mouth twitched, and he made a few feeble gestures with his hands. “It was only perhaps an idea of mine, sir,” he stammered,—“just a sort of idea ... I dare say I was mistaken. My hearing ain’t what it was, sir....” “Don’t you try to hoodwink me,” said Manderton, with sudden ferocity, knitting his brows and frowning at the unfortunate butler. “Come on and tell us what you heard. Mr. Greve knows and I mean to. Out with it!” Bude cast a reproachful glance at Robin. Then he said: “Well, sir, a minute or two after Mr. Greve had passed me, I went back to the hall and through the open door of the corridor leading to the library, I heard voices!” “Voices, eh? Did you recognize them?” “No, sir. It was just the sound of talking!” “You told Miss Trevert they were loud voices, Bude!” Robin interrupted. “Yes, sir,” replied the butler, “they were loudish in a manner o’ speaking, else I shouldn’t have heard them!” “Why not?” The detective rapped the question out sharply. “Why, because the library door was locked, sir!”