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"Used they to leave the house together?" "No, sir." "Did the lady ever stay the night here?" "Never, sir." "Yes: evidently a married woman," murmured the detective as if speaking to himself. Mme. Doulenques made a vague gesture to show her ignorance on the point. "I can't tell you anything about that, sir." "Very well," said the detective; "kindly pass me that coat behind you."
Doulenques' mistrust waxed greater, and she sincerely regretted being alone on the fifth floor with these strangers, for the other occupants of this floor had gone off to their daily work long ago. Suddenly she escaped from the room, and called shrilly down the stairs: "Madame Aurore! Madame Aurore!"
Then he turned again to Mme. Doulenques who was standing stiffly against the wall, severely silent. "You told me that M. Gurn had a lady friend. When used he to see her?" "Pretty often, when he was in Paris; and always in the afternoon. Sometimes they were together till six or seven o'clock, and once or twice the lady did not come down before half-past seven."
Are those the ones?" and taking no notice of the visitor in the room, the man pointed to two large trunks and two small boxes which were placed in a corner of the room. "But aren't you three all together?" enquired Mme. Doulenques, visibly uneasy. The stranger still remained silent, but the first porter replied at once. "No; we have nothing to do with the gentleman. Get on to it, mate!
This lady is like the other lady there's a sort of family likeness between them , but at the moment I do not exactly recognise her; it's much too serious!" Mme. Doulenques would willingly have continued to give evidence for ever and a day, but the President cut her short. "Very well; thank you," he said, and dismissed her with the usher, turning again meanwhile to Lady Beltham.
Doulenques protested, "I took an oath just now to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth; so I don't want to tell any stories; well, this lady might be the same lady, and again she mightn't be." "In other words, you cannot give a definite answer." "That's it," said the concierge. "I don't know; I can't swear.
Doulenques considered it a tremendous honour to be called as witness in a trial with which the press was ringing, and was particularly excited because she had just been requested to pose for her photograph by a representative of her own favourite paper. She followed the usher to where Lady Beltham stood. "You told us just now, Mme.
Doulenques," the President said suavely, "that your lodger, Gurn, often received visits from a lady friend. You also said that if this lady were placed before you, you would certainly recognise her. Now will you kindly look at the lady in the box: is this the same person?" Mme.
Juve pointed to the velvet curtain that screened the door between the little anteroom and the room in which they were. "How did you come to leave that curtain unhooked at the top, without putting it to rights?" Mme. Doulenques looked at it.
Doulenques babbled something unintelligible and then, as the detective pressed her, made an effort to collect her scattered wits. "Three weeks ago at least, sir: yes, three weeks exactly; no one has been here since, I will swear." Juve made a sign to the gendarme, who understood, and felt the body carefully. "Quite stiff, and hard, sir," he said; "yet there is no smell from it. Perhaps the cold "
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