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He pushed both sides to. Yvonne took fright:

“Suppose they hear!”

“There is no one in the house. I have been over it.”

“Still …”

“Your husband went out ten minutes ago.”

“Where is he?”

“With his mother, the Comtesse d’Origny.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, it’s very simple! He was rung up by telephone and I awaited the result at the corner of this street and the boulevard. As I expected, the count came out hurriedly, followed by his man. I at once entered, with the aid of special keys.”

He told this in the most natural way, just as one tells a meaningless anecdote in a drawing-room. But Yvonne, suddenly seized with fresh alarm, asked:

“Then it’s not true?… His mother is not ill?… In that case, my husband will be coming back….”

“Certainly, the count will see that a trick has been played on him and in three quarters of an hour at the latest….”

“Let us go…. I don’t want him to find me here…. I must go to my son….”

“One moment….”

“One moment!… But don’t you know that they have taken him from me?… That they are hurting him, perhaps?…”