After the evening when he gave me the kiss that to me was equivalent to a confession of the crime, when his confidence went out to me in a moment of passion, Joseph steadily denied. In vain did I turn him this way and that, set traps for him, and wheedle him with soft words and caresses; he would not contradict himself. And he entered into the madness of Madame's hopes. He too concocted schemes, and tried to imagine the robbery in all its details; and he beat the dogs that did not bark, and he threatened with his fist the unknown thieves, the chimerical thieves, as if he saw them running at the horizon. I did not know what to think about this impenetrable man. One day I believed him guilty; another day I believed him innocent. And it was horribly provoking.
We met again in the harness-room in the evening, as before.
"Well, Joseph?"
"Ah! it is you, Célestine!"
"Why don't you speak to me any more? You seem to shun me."
"Shun you? I? Oh! heavens!"
"Yes, since that famous morning."
"Don't talk of that, Célestine; you have too bad ideas."
And he sadly wagged his head.
"Come, Joseph, you know that I do that for fun. Would I love you, if you had committed such a crime? My little Joseph...."