“About a month before. I was his best man.”
“Did you know Mrs. Douglas before her marriage?”
“No, I did not. I had been away from England for ten years.”
“But you have seen a good deal of her since.”
Barker looked sternly at the detective. “I have seen a good deal of him since,” he answered. “If I have seen her, it is because you cannot visit a man without knowing his wife. If you imagine there is any connection—”
“I imagine nothing, Mr. Barker. I am bound to make every inquiry which can bear upon the case. But I mean no offense.”
“Some inquiries are offensive,” Barker answered angrily.
“It’s only the facts that we want. It is in your interest and everyone’s interest that they should be cleared up. Did Mr. Douglas entirely approve your friendship with his wife?”
Barker grew paler, and his great, strong hands were clasped convulsively together. “You have no right to ask such questions!” he cried. “What has this to do with the matter you are investigating?”
“I must repeat the question.”
“Well, I refuse to answer.”
“You can refuse to answer; but you must be aware that your refusal is in itself an answer, for you would not refuse if you had not something to conceal.”