He knew the woman-criminal of his country--brutal, passionate, treacherous.

The anonymous letters in a woman's handwriting which descend upon the Rue de Jerusalem, and betray the men who have committed thefts, had left him no illusions upon that figure in the history of crime.

Adele Rossignol ran forward to confess, so that Harry Wethermill might suffer to the last possible point of suffering.

Then at last Wethermill gave in and, broken down by the ceaseless interrogations of the magistrate, confessed in his turn too.
The one, and the only one, who stood firmly throughout and denied the crime was Helene Vauquier.

Her thin lips were kept contemptuously closed, whatever the others might admit.