Armande Roussel; and this branch was represented so far by Mme. Fauville!
The Prefect of Police and the examining magistrate exchanged glances and both instinctively turned toward Don Luis Perenna, who did not move a muscle.
"Have you no brother or sister, Madame?" asked the Prefect.
"No, Monsieur le Préfet, I am the only one."
The only one! In other words, now that her husband and son were dead, Cosmo Mornington's millions reverted absolutely and undeniably to her, to her alone.
Meanwhile, a hideous idea weighed like a nightmare upon the magistrates and they could not rid themselves of it: the woman sitting before them was the mother of Edmond Fauville. M. Desmalions had his eyes on Don Luis Perenna, who wrote a few words on a card and handed it to the Prefect.
M. Desmalions, who was gradually resuming toward Don Luis his courteous attitude of the day before, read it, reflected a moment, and put this question to Mme. Fauville:
"What was your son Edmond's age?"
"Seventeen."
"You look so young"
"Edmond was not my son, but my stepson, the son of my husband by his first wife, who died."
"Ah! So Edmond Fauville" muttered the Prefect, without finishing his sentence.
In two minutes the whole situation had changed. In the eyes of the magistrates, Mme. Fauville was no longer the widow and mother who must on no account be attacked. She had suddenly become a woman whom cir-
