"
Shields turned towards the two men, who had been silent listeners. In his
face there seemed to be some desire for corroboration.
"You two gentlemen were present when Lord Dredlinton died?" he asked.
"We were," Phipps replied, after a moment's hesitation.
"We believed that it was a faint," Rees observed. "Even now it seems
impossible to believe that he is dead."
"Dead!--My God!" Phipps repeated, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Nothing else transpired during the evening," the inspector continued,
"likely to have proved a shock to his lordship?"
"Nothing," Phipps declared hoarsely. "We must have been playing for a
great many hours."
"I am a strong man," Rees added, "and the youngest of the party, but I
too--feel faint."
"It seems a little strange, Mr. Wingate," Shields remarked, turning
towards him, "that you yourself show not the slightest signs of fatigue."
Wingate smiled grimly.
"I neither drink nor smoke to excess," he explained, "and as a rule I
keep regular hours. Perhaps that is why, if I choose to sit up all night,
I am able to stand it."
There was a knock at the door and Grant presented himself. To all
appearance he was, as ever, the perfect butler. It was only Wingate who
saw that quick, questioning look, the hovering of his hand about his
pocket; who knew that, if necessary, there was no risk which this man
would not run.
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