"Wait one moment," he resumed; "I have not finished.

Just one word.

It is probable that our friend will remain among us, owing to the death of Monsieur Peirotte." Whilst the guests burst out into exclamations, Felicite felt a keen pain in her heart.

Sicardot had already told her that the receiver had been shot; but at the mention of that sudden and shocking death, just as they were starting on that triumphal dinner, it seemed as if a chilling gust swept past her face.

She remembered her wish; it was she who had killed that man.