“Certainly,” replied M. Larette, “but there is an inconceivable mystery about the affair. A fellow who bought the poison at the chemist’s has been imprisoned; Madame Bertollon is also a prisoner in her apartment.”
“Madame Bertollon a prisoner!—For what reason? And who has put her under arrest?”
“The magistrate.”
“The magistrate! Is the police mad enough to fancy Madame Bertollon capable of poisoning her husband?”
“He believes it, and every body——”
“Sir, you are shrugging your shoulders; ‘And every body?—’ Well, continue: what were you going to say.”
“That every body believes it. The fellow, Valentine I think is his name——”
“What Valentine? Sure the old faithful servant, the most honest fellow under the sun——”
“Well, he has deposed, that about a week ago, he fetched the poison by order of Madame Bertollon.”
“The infernal liar; the——”