Leon was on the point of replying, when he thought he heard steps and talking behind one of the doors.
“Where does that door lead to?” he asked in a low voice.
“Into a room opening into the Chinese boudoir.”
“You see; they are watching all we do, listening to all we say. Those are the witnesses preparing their evidence.”
“God knows who they may be! Suppose it were my husband....” said Pepa in Leon’s ear, like thief talking to thief in the silence of the room they have robbed. “Suppose he were to come in here. He might kill us both and hardly be blamed for it. The law would protect him; you are in his wife’s room.”
A cold shiver ran through every vein in Leon’s body.
“Hush,” he whispered to Pepa. “Some one is spying us. But the voices are those of inquisitive women and stupid men servants. They have no weapons but their tongues.”
“And we are here that the witnesses may rehearse their parts!” exclaimed Pepa starting away from him and rushing to the door, like a lioness at bay. “Who is there, listening, prying, watching me, with his ear to my keyhole? I am at home, in my own house, and those who treat me with disrespect shall suffer for it!” Then turning to Leon she went on: “And still you doubt! Danger surrounds us—I tremble for your life, for everything I hold dear.”
Outside the door there was silence; they heard the soft footfall of women creeping away.