Besnard, the Commissaire, had made up his mind, too.

He merely shrugged his shoulders.

Hanaud stepped forward and laid his hand gently on the chauffeur's arm.
"Come, my friend," he said, "let us hear exactly how this happened!" "Mlle.

Celie," said Servettaz, with genuine compunction in his voice, "came to the garage on Saturday morning and ordered the car for the afternoon.

She stayed and talked to me for a little while, as she often did.