did not wait to hear the good woman's lamentations but hurriedly
climbed the flights of stairs and knocked on the door indicated.

It was opened by a young girl.

"Mademoiselle Marie Pascal?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"Can I see you for a couple of minutes? I am a detective and have charge
of investigating the death of Mlle. d'Orsel."

Mlle. Pascal led the way into her modest room, which was bright and
sunny with a flowered paper on the walls, potted plants and a bird-cage.
She then began a recital of the interview she had had with Susy. This
threw no fresh light upon the case and at the end, Juve replied:

"To sum it up, Mademoiselle, you know only one thing, that Mlle.
d'Orsel was waiting for her lover, that she told you she was not very
happy, but did not appear especially sad or cast down ... in fact,
neither her words nor her attitude showed any thought of attempted
suicide. Am I not right?"

Marie Pascal hesitated; she seemed worried over something; at length she
spoke up:

"I do know more."

"What?"

Juve, to cover the young girl's confusion, had turned his head away
while putting the last question.

"Why," he remarked, "you can see Mlle. d'Orsel's apartment from your
windows!"

"Yes, Monsieur, and that ..."

"Were you in bed when the suicide took place?"

"No ... I was not in bed, I saw ..."

"Ah! You saw! What did you see?"

"Monsieur, I haven't spoken to a soul about it; in fact, I'm not sure I
wasn't mistaken, it all happened so quickly.... I was getting a breath
of fresh air at the window, I noticed her apartment was lighted up, I
could see that through the curtains, and I said to myself, her lover
must have arrived."

"Well, what then?"

"Then suddenly some one pulled back the hall-window curtains, then the
window was flung open and I thought I saw a man holding Mlle. d'Orsel
by the shoulders ... she was struggling but without crying out ...
finally he threw her out of the window, then the light was extinguished
and I saw nothing more."

"But you called for help?"

"Ah, Monsieur, I'm afraid I didn't act as I should have. I lost my head,
you understand ... I left my room and was on my way downstairs to help
the poor woman ... and then I heard voices, doors slamming ... I was
afraid the murderer might kill me, too, so I hurried back to my room."

"According to you, then, it was not a suicide?"

"Oh, no, Monsieur ... I am quite sure she was thrown out of the window
by some man."

"Som