“Enough!” he cried.
Coralie seemed in no way alarmed:
“Enough,” she echoed, “you are right. Enough words between us. Besides, there is one fact that stands out above everything: your flight. That amounts to a confession. You’re afraid of the police.”
He shrugged his shoulders a second time:
“I’m afraid of nobody.”
“Very well, but you’re going.”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s have it out. When are you going?”
“Presently, at twelve o’clock.”
“And if you’re arrested?”