“I’m glad of that—then we can sleep in peace.”
Godfrey rather wondered that Mrs. Tremaine took no part in the discussion. She stood listening apathetically, not even noticing his stare.
“When they told me they’d gone through your rooms,” added Higgins, “I was kind o’ surprised. I thought you was at home t’ night.”
“And that we stayed in our rooms during all that row?” queried Tremaine, smiling. “I suppose there was a row?”
His eyes sought Godfrey’s again; then he turned back to Higgins, evidently disturbed.
“You mean we may have to prove an alibi?” he went on quickly. “Oh, we can do that. We left the house just after seven o’clock—that was the first that I knew fourteen was occupied—I could see a light through the transom. I didn’t see you anywhere about.”
“Oh, now I understand,” cried Higgins; “that was while we was puttin’ Thompson t’ bed. You didn’t know him, I guess, sir?”
“No—as I said, I thought fourteen was empty.”
“He’s only been here three days,” explained the janitor, “an’ he was out most o’ th’ time, tankin’ up.”
“Oh, he was that sort, was he?” and Tremaine tossed away the end of his cigarette. “He got his deserts, then, no doubt. Come, Cecily,” he added, turning to his wife.
“Elevator, sir?” asked Higgins.
“No; we’ve been sitting all evening at the vaudeville,” and they went on up the stair, leaving Godfrey staring after them.
