“No—wait, though: there was one who said, ‘We shall have no time to lose—the governor is to telephone to us at eight o’clock in the morning—’”
“Where to?”
“I can’t say.—I’ve forgotten—”
“Try—try and remember. It was the name of a town, wasn’t it?”
“Yes—a name—like Château—”
“Châteaubriant?—Château-Thierry?—”
“No-no—”
“Châteauroux?”
“Yes, that was it—Châteauroux—”
Beautrelet did not wait for her to complete her sentence. Already he was on his feet and, without giving a thought to Froberval, without even troubling about the child, who stood gazing at him in stupefaction, he opened the door and ran to the station: