CHAPTER VII. IN WHICH ROULETABILLE SETS OUT ON AN EXPEDITION UNDER THE BED
Rouletabille having pushed open the door of The Yellow Room paused on the threshold saying, with an emotion which I only later understood, “Ah, the perfume of the lady in black!”
The chamber was dark. Daddy Jacques was about to open the blinds when Rouletabille stopped him.
“Did not the tragedy take place in complete darkness?” he asked.
“No, young man, I don’t think so. Mademoiselle always had a nightlight on her table, and I lit it every evening before she went to bed. I was a sort of chambermaid, you must understand, when the evening came. The real chambermaid did not come here much before the morning. Mademoiselle worked late—far into the night.”
“Where did the table with the night-light stand,—far from the
