She did not like speaking of her husband who had, she said, perished in a shipwreck.  But she had never given the slightest detail.  On one particular occasion she had remarked, in presence of the milk-woman and three other persons, “No woman was ever more miserable than I during my married life.”  And at another she had said, “All new, all fine!  A new broom sweeps clean.  My defunct husband only loved me for a year!”

Widow Lerouge passed for rich, or at the least for being very well off and she was not a miser.  She had lent a woman at La Malmaison sixty francs with which to pay her rent, and would not let her return them.  At another time she had advanced two hundred francs to a fisherman of Port-Marly.  She was fond of good living, spent a good deal on her food, and bought wine by the half cask.  She took pleasure in treating her acquaintances, and her dinners were excellent.  If complimented on her easy circumstances, she made no very strong denial.  She had frequently been heard to say, “I have nothing in the funds, but I have everything I want.  If I wished for more, I could have it.”

Beyond this, the slightest allusion to her past life, her country, or her family had never escaped her.  She was very talkative, but all she would say would be to the detriment of her neighbours.  She was supposed, however, to have seen the world, and to know a great deal.  She was very distrustful and barricaded herself in her cottage as in a fortress.  She never went out in the evening, and it was well known that she got tipsy regularly at her dinner and went to bed very soon afterwards.  Rarely had strangers been seen to visit her; four or five times a lady accompanied by a young man had called, and upon one occasion two gentlemen, one young, the other old and decorated, had come in a magnificent carriage.

In conclusion, the deceased was held in but little esteem by her neighbours.  Her remarks were often most offensive and odious in the mouth of a woman of her age.  She had been heard to give a young girl the most detestable counsels.  A pork butcher, belonging to Bougival, embarrassed in his business, and tempted by her supposed wealth, had at one time paid her his addresses.  She, however, repelled his advances, declaring that to be married once was enough for her.  On several occasions men had been seen in her house; first of all, a young one, who had the appearance of a clerk of the railway company; then another, a tall, elderly man, very sunburnt, who was dressed in a blouse, and looked very villainous.  These men were reported to be her lovers.

Whilst questioning the witnesses, the commissary wrote down their depositions in a more condensed form, and he had got so far, when the investigating magistrate arrived, attended by the chief of the detective police, and one of his subordinates.

M. Daburon was a man thirty-eight years of age, and of prepossessing appearance; sympathetic notwithstanding his coldness; wearing upon his countenance a sweet, and rather sad expression.  This settled melancholy had remained with him ever since his recovery, two years before, from a dreadful malady, which had well-nigh proved fatal.