She turned toward her visitor just
enough to show him the rouge on one cheek, and then, as he seemed rather
frightened--a fact flattering to her vanity--she spoke in an affable
tone. "Ah, well young man," said she, "what brings you here?"
In point of fact, Lecoq was not frightened, but he was intensely
disappointed to find that Madame d'Arlange could not possibly be one of
the women who had escaped from the Widow Chupin's hovel on the night of
the murder. There was nothing about her appearance that corresponded in
the least degree with the descriptions given by Papillon.
Remembering the small footprints left in the snow by the two fugitives,
the young detective glanced, moreover, at the marchioness's feet, just
perceivable beneath her skirt, and his disappointment reached its climax
when he found that they were truly colossal in size.
"Well, are you dumb?" inquired the old lady, raising her voice.
Without making a direct reply, Lecoq produced the precious earring, and,
placing it upon the table beside the marchioness, remarked: "I bring you
this jewel, madame, which I have found, and which, I am told, belongs to
you."
Madame d'Arlange laid down her knitting and proceeded to examine the
earring. "It is true," she said, after a moment, "that this ornament
formerly belonged to me. It was a fancy I had, about four years ago, and
it cost me dear--at least twenty thousand francs. Ah! Doisty, the man
who sold me those diamonds, must make a handsome income.
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