She was engrossed in reading a detective story while slumped on one of the chairs, pulling the ends of a soft, wine-colored silk robe over her legs. Nothing interrupted her reading at all that morning, even her little six-month-old son was asleep, and he slept for a long time this morning as if to give her a chance.
She would stop reading from time to time to contemplate what she had read with all her feelings, leaving the remains of it attached to an oil painting hanging on the wall representing a fisherman carrying a net. She quickly placed the book on a table close to her hand and opened her eyes in astonishment. She gasped alone in astonishment at the end to which the stream of events had unfolded. Then she laughed and then went on wondering:
- And when he surrenders himself?! This is strange.
The police were closing in on a man whose evidence indicated that he was the killer, especially because he would benefit from this crime because he would inherit. Suddenly, a young man with the appearance of a craftsman approaches the police officers and confesses that he is the killer. The Marquis's son and sole heir was murdered in revenge for his honour. Because the Marquis's son deceived his sister when he met her one day at the entrance to the forest and took away her honor.