"You secured the window on the inside after he had gone," Durham repeated in cold, unruffled tones.
Mrs. Eustace sprang to her feet and faced him.
"It's a lie," she cried. "The room was empty when I came to it."
"The room was empty, quite so. And the window was open. You closed and secured it."
"I tell you I did not."
"You have already said that you only stood at the kitchen door until you went to the office to ask whether your husband was there. Now you say the room was empty when you came to it. Which statement do you expect me to believe?"
"I don't care what you believe," she cried. "You have no right to ask me these questions. I will not answer you. Mr. Harding, I appeal to you. If you have no regard for the honour of an absent friend, at least you might protect the wife of your friend from insult."
Durham's eyes never wavered as he watched her.
"No insult is offered or intended, Mrs. Eustace," he said quietly. "Mr. Harding, in the interests of the bank, as well as in the interests of your husband, is desirous, as we all are, of knowing the truth. I will ask you one more question: Where were you when Mrs. Burke left the dining-room and crossed the passage to the front door?"
Mrs. Eustace, with close-set lips, stood defiantly silent.