Question. "In what way do you suppose people might have entered your house on the night of May 30th-31st, 1908?"

Answer. "I suppose they entered by the gate in the Impasse, perhaps with the key which Couillard had lost. Then they must have passed through the pantry door. I suppose so, as I have since been told that that door had not been locked that night (for when M. Lecoq, a neighbour, heard Couillard's cries in the morning and came to the rescue, he had only to push that door to enter the house!); or perhaps they passed through the little kitchen window, for Couillard stated—and this also I heard later on—that he merely pulled that window to, without closing it, a thing he should never have done.... I have also been struck by the fact that a ladder was seen against the kitchen. None of us had seen that ladder there on May 30th."

Question. "Explain to us why there were hardly any traces of acts of violence on the bodies of the victims—that is, of your mother and your husband?"

Answer. "I cannot tell... I heard no struggle, no noise, that night...."

Question. "How do you explain that your husband was found with his legs bent under his thighs, in a kneeling position, and his arms stretched along his body, and that your mother had her arms resting on her breast—that is, in an attitude quite contrary to an attitude of defence?"

Answer. "How can I explain all this?... So much the better if they have not suffered too much...."

Question. "How do you explain that you were not made to share the fate of your mother and your husband?"

Answer. "Ah! I cannot understand that. In any case, I regret with all my heart that I was not killed.... My mother did not suffer much, it appears.... But I have been through constant agonies; and then there was that awful night of the tragedy, when I felt I was dying.... And all the time I was wondering what had happened to my mother and my husband.... Perhaps those people thought I would pull on the ropes and strangle myself... I don't know...."

Question. "How do you explain the fact that they could spare you when you were a dangerous witness—one who would be the more formidable, more implacable and relentless because the victims were your own mother and husband?"

Answer. "I don't know that they wanted me to live.... The way they had bound me meant death to me at the slightest movement. It needed a woman with my strong will—I was thinking of my Marthe—and also with my good health, to stand what I went through and live...."