"You will curse the physician later," replied the officer, smiling.
"I beg of you, monsieur."
"Well, then, that woman was in collusion with her husband."
"Oh!----"
"Yes, sir, and so it is in two cases out of every ten. Oh! we know it
well."
"What proof have you of such a conspiracy?"
"In the first place, the husband!" said the other, with the calm
acumen of a surgeon practised in unbinding wounds. "Mean speculation
is stamped in every line of that villainous face. But you, no doubt,
set great store by a certain letter written by that woman with regard
to the child?"
"So much so, that I always have it about me," replied Hulot, feeling
in his breast-pocket for the little pocketbook which he always kept
there.
"Leave your pocketbook where it is," said the man, as crushing as a
thunder-clap. "Here is the letter.--I now know all I want to know.
Madame Marneffe, of course, was aware of what that pocketbook
contained?"
"She alone in the world."
"So I supposed.--Now for the proof you asked for of her collusion with
her husband."
"Let us hear!" said the Baron, still incredulous.
"When we came in here, Monsieur le Baron, that wretched creature
Marneffe led the way, and he took up this letter, which his wife, no
doubt, had placed on this writing-table," and he pointed to the
_bonheur-du-jour_. "That evidently was the spot agreed upon by the
couple, in case she should succeed in stealing the letter while you
were asleep; for this letter, as written to you by the lady, is,
combined with those you wrote to her, decisive evidence in a
police-court.
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