"As I tell you, Monsieur, I saw M. Kettering come out of his wife's compartment just before the tram drew into Lyons. There was a look on his face—ah! at the moment I could not understand it—a look haunted and terrible. I shall never forget"
Her voice rose shrilly, and she flung out her arms in an extravagant gesture.
"Quite so," said M. Carrège.
"Afterwards, when I found that Madame Kettering was dead when the train left Lyons, then—then I knew!"
"And still—you did not go to the police, Mademoiselle," said the Commissary mildly.
Mirelle glanced at him superbly; she was clearly enjoying herself in the rôle she was playing.
"Shall I betray my lover?" she asked. "Ah no; do not ask a woman to do that."
"Yet now" hinted M. Caux.
"Now it is different. He has betrayed me! Shall I suffer that in silence. . .?"
The Examining Magistrate checked her.
"Quite so, quite so," he murmured soothingly. "And now, Mademoiselle, perhaps you will read over the statement of what you have told us, see that it is correct, and sign it."
Mirelie wasted no time on the document.
"Yes, yes," she said, "it is correct." She rose to her feet. "You require me no longer, Messieurs?"
"At present, no, Mademoiselle."
"And Dereek will be arrested?"
"At once, Mademoiselle."
