"Were Kittredge and Martinez good friends?"
"Oh, yes."
"Never had any words? Any quarrel?"
"Why—er—no," she replied in some confusion.
"I don't want to distress you, mademoiselle," said Coquenil gravely, "but aren't you keeping something back?"
"No, no," she insisted. "I just thought of—of a little thing that made me unhappy, but it has nothing to do with this case. You believe me, don't you?"
She spoke with pleading earnestness, and again M. Paul followed an intuition that told him he might get everything from this girl by going slowly and gently, whereas, by trying to force her confidence, he would get nothing.
"Of course I believe you," he smiled. "Now I'm going to give you some of this tea; I'm afraid it's getting cold."
And he proceeded to do the honors in so friendly a way that Alice was presently quite at her ease again.
"Now," he resumed, "we'll settle down comfortably and you can tell me what brought you here, tell me all about it. You won't mind if I smoke a cigarette? Be sure to tell me everything—there is plenty of time."