is full of policemen?"

"Be calm, my dear lady, there are only two in the house and two outside."

"Oh, the shame of it, the scandal of it!" she wailed.

"A murder isn't a pleasant thing at the best and--as I said, they have come
for the letters."

"You told them to come?"

"No, the judge told them to come. I hoped I might be able to spare you the
annoyance of a search."

"A search?" she cried, and realizing her helplessness, she sank down on a
sofa and began to cry. "It will disgrace me, it will break up my home, it
will ruin my life!" She could hear the gossips of the American Colony
rolling this choice morsel under their tongues, Pussy Wilmott's house had
been searched by the police for letters from her lover!

Then, suddenly, clutching at a last straw of hope, she yielded or seemed to
yield. "As long as a search must be made," she said with a sort of
half-defiant dignity, "I prefer to have you make it, and not these men."

"I think that is wise," bowed M. Paul.

"In which room will you begin?"

"In this room."

"I give you my word there are no letters here, but, as you don't believe
me, why--do what you like."

"I would like to look in that desk," said the detective.

"Very well--look!"

Coquenil went to the desk and examined it carefully. There were two drawers
in a raised part at the back, there was a long, wide drawer in front, and
over this a space like a drawer under a large inlaid cover, hinged at the
back. He searched everywhere here, but found no sign of the expected
letters.

"I must have been mistaken," he muttered, and he continued his search in
other parts of the room, Pussy hovering about with changing expressions
that reminded M. Paul of children's faces when they play the game of "hot
or cold."

"Well," he said, with an air of disappointment, "I find nothing here.
Suppose we try another room."

"Certainly," she agreed, and her face brightened in such evident relief
that he turned to her suddenly and said almost regretfully, as a generous
adversary might speak to one whom he hopelessly outclasses: "Madam, I hear
you are fond of gambling. You should study the game of poker, which teaches
us to hide our feelings. Now then," he walked back quickly to the desk, "I
want you to open this secret drawer."

He spoke with a sudden sternness that quite disconcerted poor Pussy. She
stood before him frozen with fear, unable to lie any more, unable even to
speak. A big tear of weakness and hu