Evidently satisfied that everything belonging to her was there, she slowly walked away and out of the dock, apparently not caring to board the ship so early.
Detective Brissard watched this woman closely, but not quite closely enough. It was Mme. Morant, and she had seen him and recognised him, having been sent by her husband to see if the coast seemed clear for their flight. On reaching the street she took a handkerchief from a bag hanging at her waist and passed it across her face, an action which M. Morant observed from the window of a restaurant opposite, where he was anxiously watching. Brissard, not knowing he had been recognised, or that Morant had heard of the inquiries being made about him, followed Mme. Morant to the Elevated Railway. As she had still some two hours before sailing-time the detective naturally supposed she was going to meet her husband.
Mme. Morant left the train at Forty-Second Street, and made her way to the Grand Central Railway Station. There she turned round suddenly, as if looking for someone, and the detective instinctively felt that the woman knew she was being followed. Throwing discretion to the winds, Brissard now deliberately approached, and, raising his hat, said:—
"Good morning, Mme. Morant."
The woman smiled sweetly. "I seem to know your face," she replied, "but for the life of me I cannot recall your name."
"I will assist you, madame," said the officer. "I am M. Brissard, of Paris, detective agent."
Without showing the least perturbation, Mine. Morant held out her hand. "Ah, yes," she replied. "It is so long since I have been in Paris; I had forgotten. How do you do?"
M. Brissard assured the lady he was enjoying the best of health, and in turn asked after madame's husband.
"Ah, poor Morant!" was the answer. "He has been dead some years; I have married again."
Brissard sympathized with her. He was extremely sorry to trouble her, he said, but a certain event in the life of the late M. Morant was being looked into by the police, and he, Brissard, was afraid that madame would have to accompany him—simply to answer a few questions. The woman kept remarkably cool, only the pallor of her face giving evidence of the emotion she was trying so hard to control.