This feat of strength, accomplished with an incredible ease, finished her taming. She felt that she had better not provoke him further. He set her down on her feet. She sank on to a chair and said: “What is it you want to know?” “Everything. First of all the reason for your coming here and for that scoundrel’s murdering Bridget Rousselin.” “The bandeau with the stones in it,” she said. “But they’re worthless--imitation garnets, imitation topazes, opals, beryls----” “Yes. But there are seven of them.” “What of it? What was the object of his murdering her? It was so simple to bide your time and ransack her rooms the first chance you got,” he suggested. “Evidently. But it looked as if other people were on the track of them.” “Other people?” “Yes. Early this morning, acting on my instructions, Leonard made inquiries about this Bridget Rousselin, for last night I noticed the bandeau she was wearing; and he reported that people were prowling about this house.” “People? What people?” he said quickly. “Emissaries of the Belmonte woman.” “The woman who is mixed up in the business?” he asked. “Yes. You find her everywhere.” “Well, what of it? Was that a reason for murder?” “He must have lost his head. And it was my fault for telling him that I must have the bandeau at any cost.” “Well, you see what it is: We’re at the mercy of a brute who loses his head and murders senselessly, stupidly. It’s time to make an end of it, look you. I’m much more strongly inclined to believe that the people who were prowling round this house this morning were emissaries of Beaumagnan. Now you’re not of a force to measure yourself against Beaumagnan. Let me take over the management of the affair. If you want to succeed, it is through me, and through me only, that you will succeed.” Josine weakened. Ralph asserted his superiority in a tone of such conviction that she had, so to speak, a strong physical impression of it. She saw him greater than he was and more powerful, more richly endowed than any other man she had known, equipped with a more subtle spirit, keener eyes, more diverse methods of action. She bent before this implacable will, before this immense energy that no consideration could turn from its course. “Very well. I _will_ tell you everything,” she said. “But why here?” “Here--and nowhere else,” said Ralph firmly, knowing well that if the Countess of Cagliostro was once really herself again, he would obtain nothing. “Very well,” she said again, in a tone of bitter resignation. “Very well. I give in, since our love is at stake, and you seem to take it so little into account.”