"And now, Mademoiselle, tell me all you can about your deceased friend and her granddaughter. You had known Madame Lemarque for some time, I conclude?"
"I had lived with her for nearly ten years."
"For nearly ten years? Then you must have joined your fortunes with hers very soon after the murder of her daughter, Marie Prévol?"
"You have heard of that terrible event, then, Monsieur?" asked the dressmaker. "It is so long since it happened that I thought it had been forgotten by all the world except me."
"No, Mademoiselle; a tragedy so terrible as that can never be forgotten by those who study the physiology of crime. I am keenly interested in tracing the murderer of Marie Prévol."
"After ten years!" exclaimed Mademoiselle Beauville, with an incredulous smile. "Only a dreamer could think of such a thing, Monsieur."
"Then I am such a dreamer, Mademoiselle, and I hope you will help me to realise my dream."
"Does Monsieur know that Monsieur Mardoche, one of the most distinguished of our Juges d'Instruction, took up this case with enthusiasm; that the police were never more earnest than in their endeavour to find poor Marie Prévol's murderer? Does Monsieur know that it was a double murder, and that the Baron de Maucroix, a young man of high family and large fortune, was also a victim? Does Monsieur suppose that the Baron's friends were idle—that no inducement was offered to the police?"
"I am aware of all this, Mademoiselle, and I know that the cleverest police in the world——"
"Except Russia. We must always bow to the superior genius of the north," interjected Drubarde.