“You’re right—of course, you’re right. The scent of a woman who keeps her cigarette-case in her vanity bag along with her handkerchief and powder-puff and scent-spray. There’s no mistaking the smell,” he said.
“Well?” said Marescal in a tone of triumph.
“Well, I don’t understand anything about it. There are two men here whom we found murdered, and two men who attacked them and murdered them and bolted,” said Ralph in a tone of bewilderment.
“Why not a man and a woman?”
“What? A woman? One of these robbers a woman?” cried Ralph in well-feigned amazement.
“What about this box of cigarettes?” asked Marescal, tapping it.
“It’s hardly sufficient proof,” protested Ralph.
“I’ve got another,” declared Marescal.
“What is it?”
“The heel—this shoe-heel that they picked up in the wood, stuck between two roots. How many more proofs do you want to make you believe in this second fact I’m drumming into your head: the fact that of the two murderers one was a woman?” said Marescal, impatiently.