"You naturally would think so,--unless you knew," I added to myself. Then I asked abruptly, "Are you fond of apples, Mr. Benbow?"
He looked surprised and politely puzzled. "Apples?"
"Yes. Raw apples."
"No, I don't care for them."
"But you eat them?"
"Why, no, I don't, as it happens. I don't like them."
"Now let's go back to Barker's office," I said, thinking hard. "Can you describe the office,--the arrangement of the furniture, for instance?"
He dropped his eyes again to the floor, and frowned intently, as though he were searching his memory. But in a moment he looked up with a whimsical, deprecatory smile. "I'm afraid I can't! I can't seem to remember things connectedly. Do you suppose it was the champagne?"
"That is possible," I said, thoughtful in my turn. It was quite possible that the champagne was accountable for his vagueness. Then I remembered another point. "You say that you went home after you climbed down the fire-escape."
"Yes. Not at once, I think. I seem to remember walking the streets."