Nanette looked at him in surprise but was still too frightened to offer any remarks. She opened several boxes and packages and laid a number of pairs of gloves on the table. The old man looked through them, turning them over carefully. Then he shook his head: “There must be some more somewhere,” he said. Nanette was no longer astonished at anything he might say or do, so she obediently went through the basket again and found a little box in which were several pair of grey suede gloves, fastened by bluish mother-of-pearl buttons. One of the pairs had been worn, and a button was missing.
“These are the ones I was looking for,” said the peddler, putting the gloves in his pocket. Then he continued: “Your mistress was rather fond of taking long walks by herself, wasn’t she?”
The girl’s pale face flushed hotly and she stammered: “You know—about it?”
“You know about it also, I see. And did you know everything?”
“Yes, everything,” murmured Nanette.
“Then it was you and Tristan who accompanied the lady on her walks?”
“Yes.”
“I supposed she must have taken some one into her confidence. Well, and what do you think about the murder?”
“The Professor?” replied Nanette hastily. “Why, what should I know about it?”
“The Councillor was greatly excited and very unhappy when he discovered this affair, I suppose?”