"Pushed into the river?"
"What's that?"
"Who did it, child?"
"There is some devilish crime here."
"It's a case for the police."
This last observation came from the policeman as he brought out his note-book, while a buzz of indignation ran through the crowd.
Fouchette heard these mutterings and saw the inquisitorial pencil of the official in uniform. He had shut off his light with a snap.
At this moment Tartar, having heard the voice of his mistress, had struggled to his feet, and now dragged himself over to where she lay. The crowd separated for him.
"Ah! Tartar!" exclaimed Fouchette, affectionately, raising her hand to his head.