His shoulders seemed to droop a little more, and his voice was unnatural when he spoke.
"You did not go to bed until quite late last night, Philip ?" "Yes, it was late, Mon Pere." For a moment Adare was silent, his head bowed, his eyes on the floor.
He did not raise his gaze when he spoke again.
"Did you hear anything--late--about midnight ?" he asked.

He straightened, and looked steadily into Philip's eyes.

"Did you see Miriam ?" For an instant Philip felt that it was useless to attempt concealment under the searching scrutiny of the older man's eyes.

Like an inspiration came to him a thought of Josephine.
"Josephine was the last person I saw after leaving you," he said truthfully.

"And she was in her room before eleven o'clock." "It is strange, unaccountable," mused Adare.