The next witness was M. Adolphe Geoffroy, a sculptor, who had also married a sister of M. Steinheil. He too made a bitter attack on me.
That painful hearing, during which I had been insulted by members of my late husband's own family, ended with the depositions of M. Bertillon, the world-famous anthropometrical expert, who declared that it had been impossible to identify several of the finger-prints on the brandy-bottle, and of Dr. Lefèvre who denied having ever said, "It is all a sham," concerning the way in which I was bound, but that he thought I had been securely bound.
After the hearing had been adjourned, barristers, doctors, officers, and guards eagerly pressed around me and congratulated me. "It is going splendidly; you'll win; there's nothing against you; the Prosecution will never recover from the blows it has received."... They all seemed to speak about some wrestling bout or boxing match.... I could not understand. To me it seemed so obvious that the Prosecution could not help realising the truth: my complete innocence.... And at the same time I thought of M. André, who, months ago, had heard the same evidence, and yet had not hesitated one second to conclude that I was guilty of having murdered my husband and my mother! And the awful thought entered my head that possibly the jury would share in his blindness, and that, in spite of my evident innocence, I would be condemned to death... or to lifelong imprisonment!...
I shuddered, hastily thanked all these unknown friends, all these sympathisers around me, and hastened to my cell, where the Sister Superior joined me and comforted me.
The Director of the Dépôt also stayed a short time in my dreary cell and spoke very kindly to me, and later I listened to the Sisters singing in the chapel of the Conciergerie, just as I had listened for a whole year, night after night, to the Sisters at Saint-Lazare.
The next morning, as every morning, came Pastor Arboux. Afterwards I saw the Sister Superior, but most of that endless Sunday I was left alone and walked about in one of the yards... in order to warm myself, the cell being bitterly cold.
The next day, Monday, November 8th, after M. Arboux's visit, I went to the chapel as usual, until I was told that "my" two guards were waiting for me.
When the Judge and his colleagues entered after the usher had shouted "La Cour, Messieurs" (The Court, Gentlemen!), everybody rose and then sat down again, but I remained standing—and I did so all through the trial—in order to hear M. de Valles tell me: "Sit down, Madame." That one word "Madame," instead of the word "Accused," usual in such cases, was a source of great joy to me. It almost reconciled me with the world and with my terrible position.
"Madame," only a little word, but it seemed to show that in the eyes of my Judge I was not yet found guilty, that the dreadful accusation had not yet been proved, and that to him at least I was still a woman—and a lady.... And day after day I waited for those welcome, refreshing words, "Asseyez vous, Madame."
A number of witnesses came and gave evidence, including my doctor, M. Acheray, who contradicted himself once or twice, and thus roused the anger of the Advocate-General, who exclaimed: "You are constantly contradicting yourself. It is really amazing, and (here, a wild gesture)... you can go!"