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“
Aha
!
”
roared
the
examining
magistrate
,
bringing
his
hand
down
with
a
bang
on
the
table
.
“
You
would
trifle
with
the
police
,
would
you
?
I
demand
that
you
tell
me
at
once
the
name
of
this
woman
who
came
to
visit
M
.
Renauld
in
the
evenings
.
”
“
The
police
—
the
police
,
”
grumbled
Françoise
.
“
Never
did
I
think
that
I
should
be
mixed
up
with
the
police
.
But
I
know
well
enough
who
she
was
.
It
was
Madame
Daubreuil
.
”
The
commissary
uttered
an
exclamation
,
and
leaned
forward
as
though
in
utter
astonishment
.
“
Madame
Daubreuil
—
from
the
Villa
Marguerite
just
down
the
road
?
”
“
That
is
what
I
said
,
monsieur
.
Oh
,
she
is
a
pretty
one
,
cellela
!
”
The
old
woman
tossed
her
head
scornfully
.
“
Madame
Daubreuil
,
”
murmured
the
commissary
.
“
Impossible
.
”
“
Voilà
,
”
grumbled
Françoise
.
“
That
is
all
you
get
for
telling
the
truth
.
”
“
Not
at
all
,
”
said
the
examining
magistrate
soothingly
.
“
We
were
surprised
,
that
is
all
.
Madame
Daubreuil
then
,
and
Monsieur
Renauld
,
they
were
—
”
he
paused
delicately
.
“
Eh
?
It
was
that
without
doubt
?
”
“
How
should
I
know
?
But
what
will
you
?
Monsieur
,
he
was
milor
anglais
—
trés
riche
—
and
Madame
Daubreuil
,
she
was
poor
,
that
one
—
and
trés
chic
for
all
that
she
lives
so
quietly
with
her
daughter
.
Not
a
doubt
of
it
,
she
has
had
her
history
!
She
is
no
longer
young
,
but
ma
foi
!
I
who
speak
to
you
have
seen
the
men
’
s
heads
turn
after
her
as
she
goes
down
the
street
.
Besides
lately
,
she
has
had
more
money
to
spend
—
all
the
town
knows
it
.
The
little
economies
,
they
are
at
an
end
.
”
And
Françoise
shook
her
head
with
an
air
of
unalterable
certainty
.
M
.
Hautet
stroked
his
beard
reflectively
.
