“Exactly.”
“What was the charge?” she asked in a low tone.
“Complicity in the affair of the Englishman.”
“Is he already sentenced?”
“Yes; to-day the Assize Court sent him to penal servitude for ten years. I had a telegram an hour ago. It will be in the papers to-morrow.”
“Do you think that he’ll peach upon us?” Valérie asked seriously.
“No, never fear that. He does not suspect that we put the police upon him; besides, he will live in the hope of escaping, and returning to you and your newly-acquired wealth.”
“Yes, I suppose he will,” she said, laughing. “But you’ve managed the affair very cleverly, and although it is hard to send such a boon companion to prison merely because you and I love one another, yet, after all, I suppose it’s the best course.”
“Undoubtedly, ma chère,” he said. “Now both are safely in prison, we need fear nothing. Our manoeuvres have been successful in obtaining for us a fortune ample for our needs, and by keeping on this house, as well as yours in the Avenue de la Toison d’Or, we can continue to amuse ourselves profitably by getting our guests to stake their louis on the tapis vert. We have had many obstacles to face, but they are now all removed.”
“Where is your wedding-ring—the one he gave you?” he asked.