“Is your mistress here?” he demanded, hoarse with his effort.
“Y—yes, monsieur——”
“When did she come in?” And, as the scared and bewildered maid hesitated: “Damn you, answer me! When did Mademoiselle Quellen come in? I’ll wring your neck if you lie to me!”
The maid began to whimper:
“Monsieur le Comte—I do not wish to lie to you.... Mademoiselle Nihla came back with the dawn——”
“Alone?”
The maid wrung her hands:
“Does Monsieur le Comte m-mean to harm her?”
“Will you answer me, you snivelling cat!” he panted between his big, discoloured teeth. He had fished out a pistol from his breast pocket, dragging with it a silk handkerchief, a fancy cap of tissue and gilt, and some streamers of confetti which fell to the carpet around his feet.