"So, so!" exclaimed the chief of detective police. "I know where to
search!"

"You think so?" inquired M. Daburon.

"Why, it is clear enough. We must find the tall sunburnt man, the
gallant in the blouse. The brandy and the wine were intended for his
entertainment. The widow expected him to supper. He came, sure enough,
the amiable gallant!"

"Oh!" cried the corporal of gendarmes, evidently scandalised, "she was
very old, and terribly ugly!"

Gevrol surveyed the honest fellow with an expression of contemptuous
pity. "Know, corporal," said he, "that a woman who has money is always
young and pretty, if she desires to be thought so!"

"Perhaps there is something in that," remarked the magistrate; "but it
is not what strikes me most. I am more impressed by the remark of this
unfortunate woman. 'If I wished for more, I could have it.'"

"That also attracted my attention," acquiesced the commissary.

But Gevrol no longer took the trouble to listen. He stuck to his
own opinion, and began to inspect minutely every corner of the room.
Suddenly he turned towards the commissary. "Now that I think of it,"
cried he, "was it not on Tuesday that the weather changed? It had been
freezing for a fortnight past, and on that evening it rained. At what
time did the rain commence here?"