“Yes, Madame Charles de R——.”
“And she was here to see you last night?”
“She passed the night with me, as I was not well, and returned early this morning to her house on rue de Bellevue.”
The officer grunted and, for the first time, looked away from her, glancing thoughtfully about the room.
Madame de X—— noted the change in his face, and, after some moments of silence, said quietly: “Will you not be seated, Monsieur?” and indicated a chair near her.
He sat heavily, laying sword across his knees and remarked, after a pause: “This is a sad business, and very distasteful to me.”
“I can well imagine so, Monsieur,” she returned, with a touch of irony he did not notice.
“If you would be absolutely frank, I am sure the matter might be smoothed over—at any rate the punishment might be less severe. The idea of a woman being shot is appalling; I should like to prevent that.”
“Oh, if justice be done I have no fear of such an event. But if a woman be guilty it is my conviction, Monsieur, that she should suffer even as a man. Women have been shot here in Brussels; among others, the Englishwoman, who died so bravely, and Gabrielle Petit.”