Still, for once, she could not meet his eyes, and her glance shifted furtively to one side.
He knew now; and in the horror and rage which fell upon him he would have struck her, if the sofa on which Mrs. Vanderstein was stretched had not been between them.
With dropping jaw and eyes starting from his head he thrust his face forward towards her.
“You have killed her!” he whispered.
Madame Querterot laughed a little nervously “It was an accident. I gave her a little more chloroform than I had the intention.”
“That is a lie. You meant to kill her all along. That cushion! You have suffocated her! I see it now. Oh! I see it in your face; murderess!”
“Bert, don’t be a fool!”
“Well, we’ll see who’s a fool,” said he. “I am going for the police!”
“My good Bert, you are, as I say, a fool,” said Madame Querterot, resuming with an effort her usual assurance. “For what will you fetch the police? What will you tell them, eh? That you brought this woman here in some one else’s carriage, which you stole for the purpose; and that I killed her, I suppose? A likely story! When you are gone I shall scream and run to Miss Turner, who knows me well; and her I shall tell that you have done this thing, and that now you would murder me, and her also. Do you think the police would believe that I have done it? Why, I am not stronger than Mrs. Vanderstein; it is impossible that I could have done it alone, and they will see that easily. But it is very possible that you could have done it, and believe me, Bert, if you are not sensible and do all that I tell you, it is you, and you alone, who will dangle in the air as a sequel to this accident.”