"You go too fast, monsieur; why stolen by Gaspard Levivé?"
"Because he for a few hours had the key of my safe in his possession. It is he or I."
"I would sooner suspect you, monsieur."
"Last night I left my keys with him. This morning before I arrived he had a mysterious visitor, a woman—"
"Well, monsieur, what of that?"
"When I opened the safe the letter was gone, and a blank sheet of paper substituted; that is all."
"And his explanation?"
"He refuses any. Declines even to say who the visitor was, or why she called."
"I see no case against him," I said, soberly, but my heart was chilling because of this unknown woman.
"That is not all," Monsieur Roché continued, "for I know who she was—the Countess Renazé, the closest friend of Mlle. Desormes, one of the most bewitching women in Paris, beautiful enough to tempt any man from his duty. I found this handkerchief with her monogram and crest in his room."