"My answer to your questions, Madame, is yonder," he said with a grin. "Explain to me how any living man could have descended from that window and I will surrender to you my position and my reputation as Commissaire de Police."
Moira made no reply. She had climbed upon the couch and was already half out of the window, examining the broad ledge outside, while Monsieur Simon, somewhat alarmed lest she should lose her balance, had caught her by the skirt of her dress.
"Be careful, Madame," he warned, "you may fall."
"Have no fear, Monsieur le Juge," she said with a smile. But she had lowered herself to her knees upon the ledge outside and clinging to the jamb of the window was carefully examining every inch of the sill and tin gutter.
Monsieur Matthieu, inside the room, had lighted a cigarette and was puffing at it contentedly, looking on with an amused tolerance at the solicitude of Monsieur Simon, who as he knew was more easily swayed than himself from the paths of his duty by a pretty face or a well-turned ankle. Through the panes of glass he saw that the girl had bent forward at the edge, her eyes near the tin gutter, the fingers of one hand touching the edge, while Monsieur Simon held her other arm and besought her to return. This she did presently, standing for a moment upright in the open window and looking down at them intently, a challenge in her eyes for the Commissaire.
"Did you discover anything, Madame?" he asked politely enough.
Though his professional manner may not have indicated it, Monsieur Matthieu was sorry for her. She had attempted the impossible. Her lover was doomed. But she was handsome—with the fine color that had come into her face from her exertions, and the new gleam of hope that had come into her eyes—handsome, but her effort was futile, so futile to hope to find clues where he, Matthieu, had failed.
She didn't reply and accepting the hand which the gallant Juge d'Instruction offered her, stepped down to the couch and so to the floor.
"You see, Madame," ventured the Commissaire more kindly, "that it would be quite out of the question for the murderer to have descended from the window."
"I have never thought that he did, Monsieur," said Moira dryly.