XVI

She uttered in a choking voice: “Yes, sir.”

“What are you doing here?” She did not answer.

The commissary went on: “What are you doing here? I find you away from home, almost undressed, in furnished apartments. What did you come here for?” He waited for a few moments. Then, as she still remained silent, he continued: “Since you will not confess, madame, I shall be obliged to verify the state of things.”

In the bed could be seen the outline of a form hidden beneath the clothes. The commissary approached and said: “Sir.”

The man in bed did not stir. He seemed to have his back turned, and his head buried under a pillow. The commissary touched what seemed to be his shoulder, and said: “Sir, do not, I beg of you, force me to take action.”

But the form still remained as motionless as a corpse. Du Roy, who had advanced quickly, seized the bedclothes, pulled them down, and tearing away the pillow, revealed the pale face of Monsieur Laroche-Mathieu. He bent over him, and, quivering with the desire to seize him by the throat and strangle him, said, between his clenched teeth: “Have at least the courage of your infamy.”

The commissary again asked: “Who are you?”

The bewildered lover not replying, he continued: “I am a commissary of police, and I summon you to tell me your name.”

George, who was quivering with brutal wrath, shouted: “Answer, you coward, or I will tell your name myself.”

Then the man in the bed stammered: “ Mr. Commissary, you ought not to allow me to be insulted by this person. Is it with you or with him that I have to do? Is it to you or to him that I have to answer?”