"I 'm sorry you saw the paper," he repeated to the girl.
Her pale face and startled eyes frightened him. She had withdrawn from his arm after a minute and now fell into a chair.
"The blasted idiots," raged the boy.
The telephone rang imperiously and Arsdale went to answer it, chewing invectives.
Donaldson crossed to the side of the girl.
"Where is Marie?" he asked.
"She is in bed again. Her poor knees are troubling her."
"I have both good news and bad news for you," he said after a moment's hesitation, "the real assailant has been found and it is Jacques Moisson."
The girl recoiled.
"Jacques!"