Alleyn could hear the squeaky voice uttering this gentle epigram.

“He was amusing,” added Miss Harris.

“Yes. Now look here, Miss Harris, we’re coming to something rather important. You tell me you went up to the top landing between, say, a quarter to one and one-fifteen. Do you think you were up there all that time?”

“Yes, Mr Alleyn, I think I was.”

“Whereabouts were you?”

Miss Harris turned purple with the rapidity of a pantomime fairy under a coloured spotlight.

“Well, I mean to say, I sat on the gallery, I went into the ladies’ cloakroom on the landing to tidy and see if everything was quite nice, and then I sat on the gallery again and — I mean I was just about.”

“You were on the gallery at one o’clock, you think?”

“I — really I’m not sure if I—”

“Let’s see if we can get at it this way. Did you go into the cloakroom immediately after you got to the landing?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“How long were you in the cloakroom?”

“Only a few minutes.”

“So you were back on the gallery again well before one.”

“Yes,” said Miss Harris without enthusiasm, “but—”

“At about the time I am trying to get at, Captain Withers and Mr Donald Potter were on the gallery, from where they moved into the sitting-room on that landing. Sir Herbert Carrados was in and out of the sitting-room and you may have heard him order the servant on duty up there to attend to the ash-trays and matches. Do you remember this?”

“No. Not exactly. I think I remember seeing Captain Withers and Mr Potter through the sitting-room door as I passed to go downstairs. The larger sitting-room — not the one with the telephone. Lord Robert was in the telephone-room.”

“How do you know that?”

“I — heard him.”

“From the cloakroom?”

“The — I mean—”

“The room between the cloakroom and the telephone-room, perhaps,” said Alleyn, mentally cursing the extreme modesty of Miss Harris.

“Yes,” said Miss Harris looking straight in front of her. Her discomfiture was so evident that Alleyn himself almost began to feel shy.

“Please don’t mind if I ask for very exact information,” he said. “Policemen are rather like doctors in these instances. Things don’t count. When did you go into this ladies’ room?”

“As soon as I got upstairs,” said Miss Harris. “Hem!”

“Right. Now let’s see if we can get things straight, shall we? You came upstairs at, say, about ten or fifteen minutes to one. You went straight to this door next the green sitting-room with the telephone. Did you see anyone?”

“Captain Withers was just coming out of the green sitting-room. I think there was a lady in there. I saw her through the open door as I — as I opened the other.”

“Yes. Anyone else?”

“I think I noticed Sir Herbert in the other sitting-room, the first one, as I passed the door. That’s all.”

“And then you went into the ladies’ room?”

“Yes,” admitted Miss Harris, shutting her eyes for a moment and opening them again to stare with something like horror at Fox’s pencil and notebook. Alleyn felt that already she saw herself being forced to answer these and worse questions shouted at her by celebrated counsel at the Old Bailey.

“How long did you remain in this room?” he asked.

White to the lips Miss Harris gave a rather mad little laugh. “Oh,” she said, “oh, quayte a tayme. You know.”

“And while you were there you heard Lord Robert telephoning in the next room?”

“Yes, I did,” said Miss Harris loudly with an air of defiance.

“She’s looking at me,” thought Alleyn, “exactly like a trapped rabbit.”

“So Lord Robert probably came upstairs after you. Do you suppose the lady you had noticed was still in the green room when he began telephoning?”

“No. I heard her come out and — and she — I mean she tried to — tried to—”

“Yes, yes,” said Alleyn, “quite. And went away?”

“Definitely.”

“And then Lord Robert began to telephone? I see. Could you hear what he said?”

“Oh, no. He spoke in a low tone, of course. I made no attempt to listen.”

“Of course not.”

“I could not have heard if I had tried,” continued Miss Harris. “I could only hear the tone of the voice and that was quite unmistakable.”

“Yes?” said Alleyn encouragingly. “Now,” he thought, “now at last are we getting to it?” Miss Harris did not go on, however, but sat with her mouth done up in a maddening button of conscious rectitude.

“Did you hear the end of the conversation?” he said at last.

“Oh, yes! The end. Yes. At least someone came into the room. I heard Lord Robert say: ‘Oh, hello!’ Those were the only words I did distinguish, and almost immediately I heard the telephone tinkle, so I knew he had rung off.”

“And the other person? Was it a man?”

“Yes. Yes, a man.”

“Could you,” said Alleyn in a level voice, “could you recognise this man?”

“Oh, no,” cried Miss Harris with an air of relief. “No indeed, Mr Alleyn, I haven’t the faintest idea. You see, after that I didn’t really hear anything at all in the next room. Nothing at all. Really.”

“You returned to the landing?”

“Not immediately. No.”

“Oh!” said Alleyn. He could think of nothing else to say. Even Fox seemed to have caught the infection of extreme embarrassment. He cleared his throat loudly. Miss Harris, astonishingly, broke into a high-pitched prattle, keeping her eyes fixed on the opposite wall and clenching and unclenching her hands.

“No. Not for some minutes and then, of course, when I did return they had both gone. I mean when I finally returned. Of course Lord Robert went before then and — and — so that was perfectly all right. Perfectly.”

“And the other man?”

“He — it was most unfortunate. A little mistake. I assure you I did not see who it was. I mean as soon as he realized it was the wrong door he went out again. Naturally. The inner door being half-glass made it even more unfortunate though of course there being two rooms was — was better for all concerned than if it was the usual arrangement. And I mean that he didn’t see me so that in a way it didn’t matter. It didn’t really matter a scrap. Not a scrap.”

Alleyn, listening to this rigmarole, sent his memory back to the top gallery of Marsdon House. He remembered the Victorian ante-room that opened off the landing, the inner gloomy sanctum beyond. The chaotic fragments of Miss Harris’s remarks joggled together in his brain and then clicked into a definite pattern.

“Not a scrap, really,” Miss Harris still repeated.

“Of course not,” agreed Alleyn cheerfully. “I think I understand what happened. Tell me if I go wrong. While you were still in the inner room the man who had interrupted Lord Robert’s telephone conversation came out of the green sitting-room and blundered through the wrong door into the ante-room of the ladies’ lavatory. That it?”

Miss Harris blanched at the unfortunate word but nodded her head.

“Why are you so sure it was this same man, Miss Harris?”

“Well, because, because I heard their voices as they came to the door of the next room and then Lord Robert’s voice on the landing and then — then it happened. I just knew that was who it was.”

Alleyn leant forward.

“The inner door,” he said, “is half-glass. Could you see this intruder?”

“Dimly, dimly,” cried Miss Harris. “Greatly obscured, I assure you. I’m sorry to say I forgot for some seconds to switch off my light. The other was on.”

“So you actually could see the shape of this person, however shadowy, through the clouded glass?”

“Yes. For a second or two. Before he went away. I think perhaps he was feeling unwell.”

“Drunk?”

“No, no. Certainly not. It was not a bit like that. He looked more as if he’d had a shock.”

“Why?”

“He — the shape of him put its hands to its face and, it swayed towards the glass partition and for a moment leant against it. Thank God,” said Miss Harris with real fervour, “I had locked the door.”