"After all," he argued, "this very imprudence pleads for her better than any calculation. The guilty don't behave like that." And he waited for the next stage in the examination with an easy mind.
"Now we have got you back home and within the Maison Crenelle before half past one in the morning," resumed Hanaud. "What did you do then?"
"I went straight upstairs to my bedroom," said Betty.
"Was your maid waiting up for you, Mademoiselle?"
"No; I had told her that I should be late and that I could undress myself."
"You are considerate, Mademoiselle. No wonder that your servants were pleased that you should have a little gaiety."
Even that advance did not appease the offended girl.
"Yes?" she asked with a sort of silky sweetness which was more hostile than any acid rejoinder. But it did not stir Hanaud to any resentment.
"When, then, did you first hear of Madame Harlowe's death?" was asked.
"The next morning my maid Francine came running into my room at seven o'clock. The nurse Jeanne had just discovered it. I slipped on my dressing-gown and ran downstairs. As soon as I saw that it was true, I rang up the two doctors who were in the habit of attending here."