One man, however, had the courage of his own convictions, and that man was Andoche Grignon, the blacksmith.
“Monsieur Bérard, I cannot say anything about it,” said he.
“Why?”
“Because I do not know any more than the rest.”
“Still you know that Madame Barrau has been a coquette; that she has flirted a good deal.”
“That is to say, she has been fond of amusing herself, yes. But I have known a great many women given to coquetry, and yet who would go no further.”
“So you believe the woman is innocent?”
“No, sir, I do not say so, but simply that I believe nothing.”
“You have no opinion to give, then. Well, you must admit that she lived at enmity with her husband for five months.”
“That is no proof. Here I have lived for seven years unhappily with my wife—Madame Grignon. She is no angel either. But she never killed me.”