"Yes, I see.... And who lives in that room?"

"A lady ... or, rather, a workwoman, for she has to work for her living
... needlework, hardly enough to keep herself and her child."

"What is her name?"

"Louise d'Ernemont.... From what I hear, she is the great-granddaughter
of a farmer-general who was guillotined during the Terror."

"Yes, on the same day as Andre Chenier," said Lupin. "According to the
memoirs of the time, this d'Ernemont was supposed to be a very rich
man." He raised his head and said, "It's an interesting story.... Why
did you wait before telling me?"

"Because this is the 15th of April."

"Well?"

"Well, I discovered yesterday--I heard them talking about it in the
porter's box--that the 15th of April plays an important part in the life
of Louise d'Ernemont."

"Nonsense!"

"Contrary to her usual habits, this woman who works every day of her
life, who keeps her two rooms tidy, who cooks the lunch which her
little girl eats when she comes home from the parish school ... this
woman, on the 15th of April, goes out with the child at ten o'clock in
the morning and does not return until nightfall. And this has happened
for years and in all weathers. You must admit that there is something
queer about this date which I find on an old picture, which is inscribed
on another, similar picture and which controls the annual movements of
the descendant of d'Ernemont the farmer-general."

"Yes, it's curious ... you're quite right," said Lupin, slowly. "And
don't you know where she goes to?"

"Nobody knows. She does not confide in a soul. As a matter of fact, she
talks very little."

"Are you sure of your information?"

"Absolutely. And the best proof of its accuracy is that here she comes."

A door had opened at the back of the room opposite, admitting a little
girl of seven or eight, who came and looked out of the window. A lady
appeared behind her, tall, good-looking still and wearing a sad and
gentle air. Both of them were ready and dressed, in clothes which were
simple in themselves, but which pointed to a love of neatness and a
certain elegance on the part of the mother.

"You see," I whispered, "they are going out."

And presently the mother took the child by the hand and they left the
room together.

Lupin caught up his hat:

"Are you coming?"

My curiosity was too great for me to raise the least objection. I went
downstairs with Lupin.

As we stepped into the street, we saw my neig