“Here is more of the horrid crime of which we were all talking when you were taken ill.”
“Well?” said the baron in a singular tone.
“Well,” continued the baroness, “the murderer has been arrested. But what a strange interest you take in the affair!”
“I?” replied the baron. “Oh! not at all; I can very truly say that. Why do you think otherwise?”
“Because you are so strangely excited whenever the subject is mentioned.”
“What do you mean, talking about my excitement?” he replied. “Can you possibly imagine, like those stupid people at dinner the other evening, that this affair interests me in the slightest degree? They were all there looking at me, looking at me ... with eyes ... with eyes.... Are you, too, going to stare at me now with those eyes ... with those eyes....”
Mme. la Baronne rose, and wrote two lines: “Dear doctor, come instantly.”
“Carry that to the telegraph office,” she said to the servant.
“She did not count the words,” muttered the man in astonishment, as he withdrew. “It must be something very serious.”