Shortly after seven M. Boirac came in. He saw Lefarge at once.
‘I don’t wish to trouble you after your journey, monsieur,’ said the latter, ‘but some further points have arisen in this unhappy business, and I would be obliged if you could kindly give me an appointment at whatever time would suit you.’
‘No time like the present. If you will excuse me for an hour till I change and get some dinner, I shall be at your service. You have dined, I suppose?’
‘Yes, thank you. If, then, I may wait here for you, I would be glad to do so.’
‘Then come into the study. You’ll perhaps find something to read in these book-cases.’
‘I thank you, monsieur.’
The hands of the clock on the study chimney-piece were pointing to half-past eight when M. Boirac re-entered. Sinking into an easy-chair, he said:—
‘Now, monsieur, I am at your service.’
‘The matter is a somewhat difficult one for me to approach, monsieur,’ began Lefarge, ‘in case it might seem to you that we had suspicions which we do not really entertain. But, as a man of the world, you will recognise that the position of the husband in unhappy affairs such as this must inevitably be made clear. It is a matter of necessary routine. My chief, M. Chauvet, has therefore placed on me the purely formal, but extremely unpleasant duty of asking you some questions about your own movements since the unhappy event.’
‘That’s rather roundabout. Do you mean that you suspect me of murdering my wife?’