"Then you do not remember me?" Sanson said.
Dossonville, startled at the turn, for a moment lost his self-possession as he strove to penetrate the allusion.
"Citoyen Dossonville, can you recall the Café Procopé about twenty years ago, and a certain Simon Lajoie who sometimes played a game of checkers with you in the evening, and who inspired you with a great deal of curiosity?"
"Perfectly," Dossonville replied, staring at him in perplexity.
"Do you remember that his visits ceased the day your interest prompted you to follow him from the café?"
"What!" Dossonville cried, rising, and extending his hand in question. "It was—?"
"It was I."
"Tonnerre de Dieu!"
And falling back, he stared in empty, stupid amazement.
"Are you convinced?"