"This room was sealed up on Sunday morning and to-day is Thursday afternoon," said Jim Frobisher with heavy sarcasm. "Ashes do not as a rule keep hot more than three days, Monsieur Hanaud."
Maurice Thevenet looked at Frobisher with indignation. He was daring to make fun of Hanaud! He treated the Sûrété with no more respect than one might treat—well, say Scotland Yard.
Even Monsieur Bex had an air of disapproval. For a partner of the firm of Frobisher & Haslitt this gentleman was certainly not very correct. Hanaud on the contrary was milk and water.
"I have observed it," he replied mildly, and he sat back upon his heels with the shovel still poised in his hands.
"Mademoiselle!" he called; and Betty moved forward and leaned against the mantelshelf at his side. "Who burnt these papers so very carefully?" he asked.
"I did," Betty replied.
"And when?"
"On Saturday night, a few, and the rest on Sunday morning, before Monsieur le Commissaire arrived."
"And what were they, Mademoiselle?"
"Letters, Monsieur."