I cried, "Look out! look out! Mariette is there!"...
"All right... never mind," said M. Hutin. "Now, listen to us. You are lost, and not only you but every one in the house unless you confess."
"Bunau-Varilla is rich," said M. de Labruyère. "He'll save you. They are coming to arrest you all, you and Marthe. You understand, your little Marthe, first of all. But we can just save you, if you will be quick.... We are in a hurry."...
Yes, they were in a hurry: their sensational copy had to go to press in time. I had said nothing yet, and they had still to write what I would say, what they felt sure they would make me say!
M. de Labruyère went on, in a coaxing, pathetic manner, "All we want is to save you, in spite of yourself! I tell you Bunau-Varilla will do anything. We will smuggle you abroad and you will forget all your troubles."...
He came quite close to me and added: "Think of your poor dead mother. She called you 'Meg, Meg...' that night.... Well, Meg, Meg, tell us everything."
I faltered. Everything seemed to turn around me.
"What do you want me to say?" I asked.
M. Hutin seized my hands: "Everything: only, you know, don't talk to us about black gowns. Nobody believes in them; it is of no use insisting any longer upon them. Don't talk about the jewels either, that's played out, too. You had better begin by telling us the truth about that pearl, and also tell us the name of the man who was your 'friend.'..."
I replied: "It was I who put the pearl in Couillard's pocket-book, it was I who put the diamond in the attic; the name of my friend was Bdl."