"These things must not be left lying about. I sha'n't worry now. The magistrate will never look for them in my pocket."
"But I shall denounce you to the police," she exclaimed, indignantly. "They shall be told!"
"No, no," he said, laughing, "you won't say anything! The police have nothing to do with this. The quarrel between you must be settled in private. What an idea, to go dragging the police into every incident of one's life!"
Madame Astaing was choking with fury:
"But you have no right to talk like this, monsieur! Who are you, after all? A friend of that woman's?"
"Since you have been attacking her, yes."
"But I'm only attacking her because she's guilty. For you can't deny it: she has killed her husband."
"I don't deny it," said Rénine, calmly. "We are all agreed on that point. Jacques d'Ormeval was killed by his wife. But, I repeat, the police must not know the truth."
"They shall know it through me, monsieur, I swear they shall. That woman must be punished: she has committed murder."
Rénine went up to her and, touching her on the shoulder: