As soon as she came into the room, she said quickly:
“I wish, Mr. Inspector, your man would have given me time to put on a decent dress. I must have been sleeping in this one ever since those rascals tied me up and put that smelly handkerchief over my face. I never saw such a nasty-looking crew as they were in my life.”
“How many were there, Madame Victoire?” said Guerchard.
“Dozens! The house was just swarming with them. I heard the noise; I came downstairs; and on the landing outside the door here, one of them jumped on me from behind and nearly choked me—to prevent me from screaming, I suppose.”
“And they were a nasty-looking crew, were they?” said Guerchard. “Did you see their faces?”
“No, I wish I had! I should know them again if I had; but they were all masked,” said Victoire.
“Sit down, Madame Victoire. There’s no need to tire you,” said Guerchard. And she sat down on a chair facing him.
“Let’s see, you sleep in one of the top rooms, Madame Victoire. It has a dormer window, set in the roof, hasn’t it?” said Guerchard, in the same polite, pleasant voice.
“Yes; yes. But what has that got to do with it?” said Victoire.
“Please answer my questions,” said Guerchard sharply. “You went to sleep in your room. Did you hear any noise on the roof?”