"Monsieur is too good, too generous," murmured the seamstress; "I should refuse all remuneration, only work has been so slack of late——"
"Not one word, Mademoiselle. Stay, I have one more question, and that an important one, to ask before I take my leave. Can you give me the exact date upon which Léonie Lemarque left Paris for Dover?"
"Assuredly, Monsieur. It was on the 4th of July."
"The 4th! And it was on the evening of the 5th she met with her death. You say she carried a small handbag containing linen."
"Yes. Her clothes were of the fewest, dear child; but everything she had was neat and nice of its kind. She had a change of linen with her."
"Had she nothing else in the bag?"
"Nothing. I went into the room while she was packing, and I saw her take a small sealed packet from under her pillow, and put it in her bosom. I had seen the same packet under her grandmother's pillow before she died. It looked like a parcel of letters or papers of some kind."
"Do you know what station Léonie was to arrive at?"
"Yes. It was the terminus of Charing."
"Charing Cross?"