"That may be so, but these things come out," retorted Gabrielle.
"Monsieur," she added, after a pause, and speaking in a low tone, "I
know that you can do much--very much--if you will, and can stop Madame
Holymead from being worried. Would you do so if you were told who the
murderer was--I mean he who did really kill the great judge?" Crewe was
genuinely surprised, but his control over his features was so complete
that he did not betray it. "Do you know who Sir Horace Fewbanks's
murderer is?" he asked, in quiet even tones. "Monsieur, I do. I will tell
you the whole story in secret--how do you say?--in confidence, if you
promise me you will help Madame Holymead as I have asked you." "I cannot
enter into a bargain like that," rejoined Crewe. "I do not know whether
Mrs. Holymead may not be implicated--concerned--in what you say."
"Monsieur, she is not!" flashed Gabrielle indignantly. "She knows nothing
about it. What I have to tell you concerns myself alone."
"In that case," rejoined Crewe, "I think you had better speak to me
frankly and freely, and if I can I will help you."
"You are perhaps right," she replied. "I will tell you everything,
provided you give me your word of honour that you will not inform the
police of what I will tell you.
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