"Adele!" said the Commissaire wisely. "Then Adele was the strange
woman's name?"
"Perhaps," said Hanaud dryly.
Helene Vauquier reflected.
"I think Adele was the name," she said in a more doubtful tone.
"It sounded like Adele."
The irrepressible Mr. Ricardo was impelled to intervene.
"What Monsieur Hanaud means," he explained, with the pleasant air
of a man happy to illuminate the dark intelligence of a child, "is
that Adele was probably a pseudonym."
Hanaud turned to him with a savage grin.
"Now that is sure to help her!" he cried. "A pseudonym! Helene
Vauquier is sure to understand that simple and elementary word.
How bright this M. Ricardo is! Where shall we find a new pin more
bright? I ask you," and he spread out his hands in a despairing
admiration.
Mr. Ricardo flushed red, but he answered never a word. He must
endure gibes and humiliations like a schoolboy in a class. His one
constant fear was lest he should be turned out of the room. The
Commissaire diverted wrath from him however.
"What he means by pseudonym," he said to Helene Vauquier,
explaining Mr. Ricardo to her as Mr. Ricardo had presumed to
explain Hanaud, "is a false name. Adele may have been, nay,
probably was, a false name adopted by this strange woman."
"Adele, I think, was the name used," replied Helene, the doubt in
her voice diminishing as she searched her memory. "I am almost
sure."
"Well, we will call her Adele," said Hanaud impatiently. "What
does it matter? Go on, Mademoiselle Vauquier."
"The lady sat upright and squarely upon the edge of a chair, with
a sort of defiance, as though she was determined nothing should
convince her, and she laughed incredulously."
Here, again, all who heard were able vividly to conjure up the
scene--the defiant sceptic sitting squarely on the edge of her
chair, removing her gloves from her muscular hands; the excited
Mme. Dauvray, so absorbed in the determination to convince; and
Mlle. Celie running from the room to put on the black gown which
would not be visible in the dim light.
"Whilst I took off mademoiselle's dress," Vauquier continued, "she
said: 'When I have gone down to the salon you can go to bed,
Helene. Mme. Adele'--yes, it was Adele--'will be fetched by a
friend in a motorcar, and I can let her out and fasten the door
again. So if you hear the car you will know that it has come for
her.'"
"Oh, she said that!" said Hanaud quickly.
"Yes, monsieur."
Hanaud looked gloomily towards Wethermill. Then he exchanged a
sharp glance with the Commissaire, and moved his shoulders in an
almost imperceptible shrug. But Mr. Ricardo saw it, and construed
it into one word. He imagined a jury uttering the word "Guilty."
Helene Vauquier saw the movement too.