Giry by the wrist and shook it violently.

In a voice growling and rolling like thunder, he roared: "Why should I know better than you where the twenty-thousand francs went to?
Why?
Answer me!" "Because they went into your pocket!" gasped the old woman, looking at him as if he were the devil incarnate.
Richard would have rushed upon Mme.

Giry, if Moncharmin had not stayed his avenging hand and hastened to ask her, more gently: "How can you suspect my partner, M.Richard, of putting twenty-thousand francs in his pocket ?" "I never said that," declared Mme.

Giry, "seeing that it was myself who put the twenty-thousand francs into M.Richard's pocket." And she added, under her voice, "There! It's out! ...

And may the ghost forgive me!" Richard began bellowing anew, but Moncharmin authoritatively ordered him to be silent.
"Allow me! Allow me! Let the woman explain herself.