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"We can't waste time on foolish clews." Coquenil glared at him. "We can't, eh? I suppose you have decided that?" "Precisely," retorted Gibelin, his red mustache bristling. "And you've been giving orders to young Bobet?" "Yes, sir." "By what authority?" "Go in there and you'll find out," sneered the fat man, jerking a derisive thumb toward Hauteville's door.
At the Opera he never left her box; afterward, at the Comtesse de Hauteville's, he created a furor by sitting out three dances in the conservatory with his wife. Mademoiselle Tiercelin had already received his regrets that he was spending that night at home. The month wore on. "It is the true honeymoon," said the Duke.
"But you can't have me, Sir Tilton, I belong to the heir of the house for the last dance," she said, wilfully misconstruing his meaning, so gaining time, lost to him. "You are cruel, you gave up my dance for Trevalyon; you won't give up De Hauteville's for me." "Eau Clair made me promise faithfully," and with pretty persuasiveness had her way to the ball-room.
Coquenil moved on past palace guards in bright apparel, past sad-faced witnesses and brisk lawyers of the court in black robes with amusing white bibs at their throats. And presently he entered Judge Hauteville's private room, where an amiable greffier asked him to sit down until the judge should arrive.
He had had wrestling enough for one day, and now he had come to keep his appointment with Judge Hauteville. Two flights up the detective found himself in a spacious corridor off which opened seven doors leading to the offices of seven judges. Seven! Strange this resemblance to the fatal corridor at the Ansonia! And stranger still that Judge Hauteville's office should be Number Six!
That was all Kittredge would say, however the questions were turned, and he declared repeatedly that he had had no quarrel with Martinez. All of which was carefully noted down. While his nerves were still tingling with the gruesomeness of all this, Lloyd was brought to Judge Hauteville's room in the Palais de Justice. He was told to sit down on a chair beside Maître Pleindeaux.
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