t whilst he was struggling with your husband,
we should never have known it, for you would never have admitted it, and
your husband has all along refused to implicate you.... You have said
that you had ceased to care for your lover: he had ceased to care for
you. He was prosperous, happy, about to marry: you hated him, and you
showed your hate when, during the murder, you flung yourself upon him
and cried, "Wretch!" Is that the behaviour of a woman who represents
herself to have been the timid slave of her husband? No. This crime is
the revenge of a cowardly and pitiless woman, who writes down in her
account book the expenses of the trip to Chatou and, after the murder,
picnics merrily in the green fields. It was you who steeled your husband
to the task.

How far the President was justified in thus inverting the parts played
by the husband and wife in the crime must be a matter of opinion. In his
volume of Souvenirs M. Berard des Glajeux modifies considerably the view
which he perhaps felt it his duty to express in his interrogatory of
Gabrielle Fenayrou. He describes her as soft and flexible by nature, the
repentant slave of her husband, seeking to atone for her wrong to him
by helping him in his revenge. The one feature in the character of
Mme. Fenayrou that seems most clearly demonstrated is its absolute
insensibility under any circumstances whatsoever.

The submissive Lucien had little to say for himself, nor could any
motive for joining in the murder beyond a readiness to oblige his
brother be suggested. In his Souvenirs M. Berard des Glajeux states that
to-day it would seem to be clearly established that Lucien acted blindly
at the bidding of his sister-in-law, "qu'il avait beaucoup aimee et qui
n'avait pas ete cruelle a son egard."

The evidence recapitulated for the most part the facts already set
out. The description of Mme. Fenayrou by the gentleman on the sporting
newspaper who had succeeded Aubert in her affections is, under the
circumstances, interesting: "She was sad, melancholy; I questioned
her, and she told me she was married to a coarse man who neglected her,
failed to understand her, and had never loved her. I became her lover
but, except on a few occasions, our relations were those of good
friends. She was a woman with few material wants, affectionate,
expansive, an idealist, one who had suffered much and sought from
without a happiness her marriage had never brought her. I believe her to
have bee