He turned towards the door, but in the same instant Hélène leaned to whisper something in her mother’s ear.
“Ah!...”
At the cry that broke from his wife, the General trembled as if he had seen Moïna lying dead. There stood Hélène, and the murderer had turned instinctively, with something like anxiety about these folk in his face.
“What is it, dear?” asked the General.
“Hélène wants to go with him.”
The murderer’s face flushed.
“If that is how my mother understands an almost involuntary exclamation,” Hélène said in a low voice, “I will fulfil her wishes.” She glanced about her with something like fierce pride; then the girl’s eyes fell, and she stood, admirable in her modesty.
“Hélène, did you go up to the room where——?”
“Yes, father.”
“Hélène” (and his voice shook with a convulsive tremor), “is this the first time that you have seen this man?”