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Updated: June 19, 2025
It's signed Germaine Astaing and it is quite enough to prove the writer's intentions and the murderous counsels which she was pressing upon her lover." Madame Astaing had turned grey in the face and was so much disconcerted that she did not try to defend herself. Renine continued, addressing his remarks to her: "To my mind, madame, you are responsible for all that happened.
"You should have given him his liberty," cried Germaine Astaing. "A woman doesn't kill her husband for wanting a divorce." Therese shook her head and answered: "I did not kill him because he wanted a divorce. If he had really wanted it, he would have left me; and what could I have done?
Madame Astaing was not appeased; and her attitude displayed the same longing for revenge and the same detestation. But she was influenced by Renine in spite of herself.
He took out the pocket-book, looked through it with his sister, came and put it back again and went off with the letters." Renine paused and added, "Or, at least, with five of them." The two women moved closer to him. What did he intend to convey? If Frederic Astaing had taken away only five letters, what had become of the sixth?
Hortense was trying to restrain her, but Renine whispered: "Let them be. It's what I wanted ... to pitch them one against the other and so to let in the day-light." Madame Astaing had made a convulsive effort to ward off the insult with a jest; and she sniggered: "A wretched creature? Why? Because I have accused you?" "Why? For every reason! You're a wretched creature!
Her cheeks had fallen in and she wore such an expression of despair that Hortense, moved to compassion, implored her to defend herself: "Please, please, explain things. When the murder was committed, you were here, on the balcony.... But then the dagger ... how did you come to have it ...? How do you explain it?..." "Explanations!" sneered Germaine Astaing. "How could she possibly explain?
In the small, closed room, where there was such a clash of hatred, he was gradually becoming the master; and Germaine Astaing understood that it was against him that she had to struggle, while Madame d'Ormeval felt all the comfort of that unexpected support which was offering itself on the brink of the abyss: "Thank you, monsieur," she said.
The horrible scene was being reenacted within her and was torturing her. Germaine Astaing did not move, but stood with folded arms and anxious eyes, while Hortense Daniel sat distractedly awaiting the confession of the crime and the explanation of the unfathomable mystery.
Madame Astaing was choking with fury: "But you have no right to talk like this, monsieur! Who are you, after all? A friend of that woman's?" "Since you have been attacking her, yes." "But I'm only attacking her because she's guilty. For you can't deny it: she has killed her husband." "I don't deny it," said Renine, calmly. "We are all agreed on that point. Jacques d'Ormeval was killed by his wife.
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