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132 get a bottle of Bordeaux and a few biscuits, if Mademoiselle will permit us to refresh ourselves in her apartment."

His keen glance had noted the hollow cheeks and glittering eyes of the dressmaker, and he wanted an excuse for giving life and warmth to that impoverished form. Drubarde caught at the idea, thinking that his client's design was to loosen the lady's tongue by the agency of Bacchus. It was altogether an amateur's notion, crude, wanting in subtlety; but the genial Drubarde was willing to indulge a beginner who was feeling his way in the elements of a great art.'

"I'll fetch a bottle of wine myself," he said cheerily; "I know where I can get one close by, and of the best."

"Bring two," said Heathcote. "Mademoiselle will accept the second bottle by way of souvenir."

"Monsieur, do you wish to make me a drunkard? I have not tasted wine since my poor friend's death," protested Mademoiselle Beauville, but there was a look in her face which told Heathcote that his gift would not be unwelcome.

Drubarde ran down-stairs like a boy, and was back in five minutes, carrying a couple of sealed bottles, labelled St. Estèphe, and a large bag of biscuits.

Mademoiselle had set out a tray in the mean time, with her poor little stock of glasses, three in all, and one of those cracked, and an old china plate for the biscuits. Again her eyes glistened when she saw the ample biscuit-bag.

"Let me look at the name on the bag," said Heathcote.

Strange, it was the very name upon that biscuit-bag which he carried at this moment, neatly folded in his pocket-book, the bag which had been found in the second-class compartment from which the girl fell!

"And now, Mademoiselle, tell me all you can about your deceased friend and her granddaughter. You had known Madame Lemarque for some time, I conclude?"

"I had lived with her for nearly ten years."

"For nearly ten years? Then you must have joined your fortunes with hers very soon after the murder of her daughter, Marie Prévol?"

"You have heard of that terrible event, then, Monsieur?" asked the dressmaker. "It is so long since it happened that I thought it had been forgotten by all the world except me."

"No, Mademoiselle; a tragedy so terrible as that can never be forgotten by those who study the physiology of crime. I am keenly interested in tracing the murderer of Marie Prévol."

"After ten years!" exclaimed Mademoiselle Beauville, with an incredulous smile. "Only a dreamer could think of such a thing, Monsieur."

"Then I am such a dreamer, Mademoiselle, and I hope you will help me to realise my dream."