"How could you divine that?" he asked.
"Oh, I didn't guess it alone; I ought to share the honor of the
theory which has enabled us to foresee this fact, with Monsieur
Plantat."
"Oh," cried the doctor, striking his forehead, "now, I recollect
your advice; in my worry, I must say, I had quite forgotten it.
"Well," he added, "your foresight is confirmed. Perhaps not so
much time as you suppose elapsed between the first blow and the
rest; but I am convinced that the countess had ceased to live
nearly three hours, when the last blows were struck."
M. Gendron went to the billiard-table, and slowly raised the sheet,
discovering the head and part of the bust.
"Let us inform ourselves, Plantat," he said.
The old justice of the peace took the lamp, and passed to the other
side of the table. His hand trembled so that the globe tingled.
The vacillating light cast gloomy shadows upon the walls. The
countess's face had been carefully bathed, the blood and mud
effaced. The marks of the blows were thus more visible, but they
still found upon that livid countenance, the traces of its beauty.
M. Lecoq stood at the head of the table, leaning over to see more
clearly.
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