“And you, Nihilist and assassin, eh?” added the other, with a sinister grin. “Well, well, ma belle, we will not speak of such gruesome subjects as the murder of your husband in Petersburg a year ago.”
“My husband?” she gasped. “Have you discovered who murdered him?”
“Ah! then you do not forget the facts? Neither do I. He was found shot through the heart within a hundred yards of his house in the Vosnosenskoi Prospekt. The Third Section of Imperial Police have not been idle, and as a result of their inquiries, a warrant has been issued.”
“For whom?”
“For the arrest of the woman who chooses to call herself Adine Orlovski, on a charge of murdering her husband.”
“Me?” she cried. “Such imputations are infamous!”
“Pray, don’t be alarmed,” continued the colonel, speaking in Russian, and taking a cigarette from the case that lay open on the table. He seated himself, and calmly lit it, saying, “Sit down; I wish to talk to you.”
Breathless with anxiety, she sank into the nearest chair.
“You see,” he began, “it is impossible to escape us. Our agents are everywhere. Outside the hotel at this moment are three officers ready to arrest you—”
“They shall not. I’d—I’d rather kill myself.”