Plon?"
"I used--but certainly--moral force. He had made his way into this room
through the window, Monsieur--Monsieur--?"
"Leblanc, at your service," said the commissioner carelessly. "Did you
say through the window? That seems scarcely probable."
But Plon was positive there was no other way by which he could have
entered unseen by him. And now he would give _M. le Commissaire_ a dozen
guesses to find out what this rascal had the villainy to pretend. To
look at him, would any one suppose now that he could be the husband of
madame?
"Apparently," said the other, glancing at them, "Madame herself is not
averse from that opinion."
"Her husband--hee, hee!" said M. Plon, getting red. "Poor Jean, who was
shot in _emeute_ three years ago! See there, monsieur, it is ridiculous!
If any one should know anything about those times, it is I. I was myself
on the very point of becoming a martyr for my country; and as for Jean
Didier, whether rightly or wrongly, he was shot, and there was an end of
him. To pretend that he turns up three years later...."
Marie was crying, and M. Plon thought his eloquence had provoked her
tears, but she put aside his hand, walked to the commissioner, and
dropped on her knees before him.
"Monsieur, if you have a wife--"
"I have not," said the man roughly.
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