"I have thought.... Madame is fair, like the blonde lady ... and pale, like her ... but she doesn't resemble her in the least."
"I can't believe it ... a mistake like that is inconceivable.... M. d'Hautrec, do you recognize Antoinette Bréhat?"
"I have seen Antoinette Bréhat at my uncle's ... this is not she."
"And madame is not Mme. de Réal, either," declared the Comte de Crozon.
This was the finishing stroke. It stunned Ganimard, who stood motionless, with hanging head and shifting eyes. Of all his contrivances, nothing remained. The whole edifice was tumbling about his shoulders.
M. Dudouis rose:
"I must beg you to forgive us, madame. There has been a regrettable confusion of identities, which I will ask you to forget. But what I cannot well understand is your agitation ... the strangeness of your manner since you arrived...."
"Why, monsieur, I was frightened ... there is over a hundred thousand francs' worth of jewels in my bag ... and your friend's attitude was not very reassuring."
"But your continual absences?..."
"Surely my occupation demands them?"