"We have got him, my dear Merivel," declared M. Perissard. "And he has actually come to Bordeaux to see the trial!"
"A most shrewd man!" rumbled his colleague.
"I should say so!" returned M. Perissard. "He has his own son chosen for the defense, and according to gossip, his son is to marry the daughter of the Public Prosecutor!"
"A most clever man!" insisted M. Merivel in a voice like the roar of the surf.
"And they tell me that Floriot's wife refused to say a word to the Examining Magistrate."
"Of course! The husband has been telling her what to do!"
"Obviously! Obviously!" agreed the senior partner with a vigorous nod. "In this way, you see, her name won't even be mentioned, and as nobody knows her in Bordeaux——" A two-handed gesture and a shrug of the shoulders filled the hiatus.
"None of the trouble will get out of the family," concluded M. Merivel heavily.
"The jury will find her guilty or acquit her—that is of no interest whatever. But no one will ever know the inner interest!"
"Excepting ourselves, my dear Perissard," corrected the ex-schoolmaster.