Dantin cast a frightened glance around the room, and asked himself if he was not shut up in a maniac's cell; if the question was real; if the voice he heard was not the voice of a dream!
"How can I explain? but I cannot explain, I do not understand, I do not know—it is madness, it is frightful, it is foolish!"
"But yet," insisted M. Ginory, "this folly, as you call it, must have some explanation."
"What do you wish to have me say? I do not understand. I repeat, I do not understand."
"What if you do not, you cannot deny your presence in the house at the moment of Rovère's death"——
"Why cannot I deny it?" Dantin interrupted.
"Because the vision is there, hidden, hazy, in the retina; because this photograph, in which you recognized yourself, denounces, points out, your presence at the moment of the last agony."
"I was not there! I swear that I was not there!" Dantin fervently declared.
"Then, explain," said the Magistrate.
Dantin remained silent a moment, as if frightened. Then he stammered: "I am dreaming!—I dreaming!" and M. Ginory replied in a calm tone: