The servant looked at Madame Descoutures for a ratification of the order, but he only met her gaze of stony horror. He felt vaguely that some unusual scene was taking place; that the authority in the house was changing hands. When he had disappeared, M. Descoutures turned to his wife, saying: "Now go to your room, and do not dare to leave it." She rose and went to her room, his threat still ringing in her ears, "By God! I will murder you!" Her anger and baffled fury were at a white heat by this time. She charged Odette with being the cause of all this humiliation, and her affection for her was not increased by this thought. And she was balked of her revenge! At this point the good soul wept with rage. She spent an hour trying to devise some means to circumvent her husband. A Hindoo proverb says, "If you imprison a woman, keep watch over the key-hole." Corinne could write. She could use that cowardly weapon--an anonymous letter. But how could she word it? Her accusation must be accompanied by convincing proof, or Paul's noble, trusting heart would meet it with simple disbelief. Where could she find this proof? She reflected for another hour, till finally, she started with a cry of delight. Claude and Odette must certainly have exchanged a few notes. Lovers have so much to say to each other, that, in spite of their frequent meetings, they must have occasionally written a line or two to slip into the other's hand. At first, of course they destroyed them; but Odette surely must have received some little note so sweet, so tender, that she could not deny herself the pleasure of keeping it to read again at her leisure. A woman that preserves one love-letter is lost, for a second and a third is added to it, until all are preserved, hidden away under lock and key. Corinne had found the thread to guide her out of the labyrinth, while her jealous hatred aided her still farther. Taking it for granted that Odette had some love-letters from Claude in her possession, where could she have concealed them. Corinne thought she was baffled at first, but she finally remembered an exquisitely carved oaken cabinet that Germaine had found in a bric-à-brac store in Naples and sent to her sister. Odette valued it very highly, and was in the habit of keeping her letters and jewelry in it. What would be more probable than that she had locked Claude's letters in this desk with her other valuables. So Corinne based her communication on two hypotheses; first, that any letters had passed between the lovers; second, the place where they were kept. In any case, such an accusation, accompanied with such apparent proof, must destroy the confidence and loving trust of the husband. He would either find the letters, or he would not find them. If his trust survived this shock Corinne could then find some other way to enlighten him. She sat down to her writing-desk, and disguising her handwriting as much as possible, wrote as follows: