“Yes, that’s why people like to go and see it. Besides, the man isn’t an ordinary sort of criminal at all. He’s very young and good-looking, and well connected. And he killed the celebrated Claudine....”
“Claudine?”
“Claudine Jacquinot. Of course you wouldn’t know. She was a tremendous—er—wrong ‘un here in the forties. Made a lot of money, and retired to her native town.”
Sophia, in spite of her efforts to maintain the role of a woman who has nothing to learn, blushed.
“Then she was older than he is.”
“Thirty-five years older, if a day.”
“What did he kill her for?”
“She wouldn’t give him enough money. She was his mistress—or rather one of ’em. He wanted money for a young lady friend, you see. He killed her and took all the jewels she was wearing. Whenever he went to see her she always wore all her best jewels—and you may bet a woman like that had a few. It seems she had been afraid for a long time that he meant to do for her.”
“Then why did she see him? And why did she wear her jewels?”
“Because she liked being afraid, goose! Some women only enjoy themselves when they’re terrified. Queer, isn’t it?”