s room I knew
exactly what I had to face. As I lay in my clothes in Manderson's bed
and listened for the almost inaudible breathing through the open door I
felt far more ease of mind, terrible as my anxiety was, than I had felt
since I saw the dead body on the turf. I even congratulated myself that
I had had the chance, through Mrs. Manderson's speaking to me, of
tightening one of the screws in my scheme by repeating the statement
about my having been sent to Southampton."

Marlowe looked at Trent, who nodded as who should say that his point was
met.

"As for Southampton," pursued Marlowe, "you know what I did when I got
there, I have no doubt. I had decided to take Manderson's story about
the mysterious Harris and act it out on my own lines. It was a carefully
prepared lie, better than anything I could improvise. I even went so far
as to get through a trunk call to the hotel at Southampton from the
library before starting, and ask if Harris was there. As I expected, he
wasn't."

"Was that why you telephoned?" Trent inquired quickly.

"The reason for telephoning was to get myself into an attitude in which
Martin couldn't see my face or anything but the jacket and hat, yet
which was a natural and familiar attitude. But while I was about it, it
was obviously better to make a genuine call. If I had simply pretended
to be telephoning, the people at the exchange could have told you at
once that there hadn't been a call from White Gables that night."

"One of the first things I did was to make that inquiry," said Trent.
"That telephone call, and the wire you sent from Southampton to the dead
man, to say Harris hadn't turned up and you were returning--both those
appealed to me."

A constrained smile lighted Marlowe's face for a moment. "I don't know
that there's anything more to tell. I returned to Marlstone, and faced
your friend the detective with such nerve as I had left. The worst was
when I heard you had been put on the case--no, that wasn't the worst.
The worst was when I saw you walk out of the shrubbery the next day,
coming away from the shed where I had laid the body. For one ghastly
moment I thought you were going to give me in charge on the spot. Now
I've told you everything, you don't look so terrible."

He closed his eyes, and there was a short silence. Then Trent got
suddenly to his feet.

"Cross-examination?" inquired Marlowe, looking at him gravely.

"Not at all," said Trent, stretching his long limb