Trent turned to a fresh page of his notebook, and tapped it thoughtfully with
his pencil. Then he looked up and said, 'I suppose Mr. Manderson had dressed
for dinner that night?'

'Certainly, sir. He had on a suit with a dress-jacket, what he used to refer
to as a Tuxedo, which he usually wore when dining at home.'

'And he was dressed like that when you saw him last?'

'All but the jacket, sir. When he spent the evening in the library, as usually
happened, he would change it for an old shooting-jacket after dinner, a light-
coloured tweed, a little too loud in pattern for English tastes, perhaps. He
had it on when I saw him last. It used to hang in this cupboard here'--Martin
opened the door of it as he spoke--along with Mr. Manderson's fishing-rods and
such things, so that he could slip it on after dinner without going upstairs.'

'Leaving the dinner-jacket in the cupboard?'

'Yes, sir. The housemaid used to take it upstairs in the morning.'

'In the morning,' Trent repeated slowly. 'And now that we are speaking of the
morning, will you tell me exactly what you know about that? I understand that
Mr. Manderson was not missed until the body was found about ten o'clock.'

'That is so, sir. Mr. Manderson would never be called, or have anything
brought to him in the morning. He occupied a separate bedroom. Usually he
would get up about eight and go round to the bathroom, and he would come down
some time before nine. But often he would sleep till nine or ten o'clock. Mrs.
Manderson was always called at seven. The maid would take in tea to her.