"Nothing but the one necklace and a handful of rings!" In a frenzy he actually stooped over the dead woman and questioned her.
"Tell us--where did you hide them ?" he cried.
"The girl will know," said Helene.
Wethermill rose up and looked wildly at Celia.
"Yes, yes," he said.
He had no scruple, no pity any longer for the girl.

There was no gain from the crime unless she spoke.

He would have placed his head in the guillotine for nothing.

He ran to the writing-table, tore off half a sheet of paper, and brought it over with a pencil to the sofa.

He gave them to Vauquier to hold, and drawing out the sofa from the wall slipped in behind.