"Céline knows the truth," retorted Galtier.
"Then let her go to the police and tell them. The London police pay little heed to the statements of discharged servants, especially if they are foreigners."
"Yes, I will go!" cried the French girl excitedly. "You are assassins!—assassins! You—both of you!—killed poor Monsieur Martin!"
"I think you will have to prove that," replied Boyne, remaining very calm.
"Hush, Céline!" said her lover. "We do not want a fracas in the street!"
"Bah! The man thinks we are afraid of him. But we are not! We are here to get at the truth about poor monsieur."
"Well, mademoiselle, you are at perfect liberty to institute inquiries," Boyne replied. "But before you go to the police as you threaten, just pause and ask yourself what all this storm in a teacup will profit you and your friend."
The vivacious girl shrugged her shoulders.
"Remember that madame is your friend," he went on. "She told me that she has recently been in Paris, and called upon you in Melun. Madame, since you left, has several times expressed regret to me that she was abrupt."
"Because she believes that I know your secret!" cried mademoiselle, interrupting.