“Look here, is it necessary for you gentlemen to—well, to pry into things like that?” he demanded.
“In this case I’m afraid it is, Graham. I’m sorry.”
“Find out then!” Graham was in a sudden rage of hurt pride. “I won’t answer such a question!”
“We’ll try to keep it a secret,” said Landis subtly.
Graham was alert enough to see the implication.
“If there were a secret,” he answered hotly, “it still wouldn’t be mine to tell, would it?”
“Look here, Graham,” ordered Bernard, “Cuddy has cropped up twice in this case already. He was actually here at the house the night before the murder. He may have been here the same night for all we know. And he isn’t at all your wife’s type. We want to know where he fits in.”
Graham shook his head with a doggedness they had not expected in him.
“Ethel’s past has nothing to do with the murder. If you absolutely insist on my telling you what I know, we’ll all three regret it. You can force me to tell you, of course. But I won’t tell you otherwise!”
“All right,” said Bernard suddenly. “We won’t insist! At least, I won’t. That’s twice you’ve refused to answer. You sent for us. But you aren’t exactly helping us, you know!”