“Why just as I thought I had hopes of reforming Oliva, and bringing her back to an honest life, some one carried her away from me.”
“That is strange.”
“Is it not? And I firmly believed it to be Madame de la Motte. But as you found her with Beausire, it was not she, and all her signals and correspondence with Oliva meant nothing.”
“With Oliva?”
“Yes.”
“They met?”
“Yes, Madame de la Motte found a way to take Oliva out every night.”
“Are you sure of this?”
“I saw and heard her.”
“Oh, sir, you tell me what I would have paid for with one thousand francs a word. But you are a friend of M. de Rohan?”