“Yes, I!” she cried. “I! I took them from under your pillow!”
He was silent a minute. Then he laughed and shook his head.
“It will not do, Madame,” he said, his lip curling. “You are clever, but you do not deceive me.”
“Deceive you?”
“Yes.”
“You do not believe that I took the letters?” she cried in great amazement.
“No,” he answered, “and for a good reason.” He had hardened his heart now. He had chosen his line, and he would not spare her.
“Why, then?” she cried. “Why?”
“For the best of all reasons,” he answered. “Because the person who stole the letters was seized in the act of making his escape, and is now in my power.”
“The person—who stole the letters?” she faltered.