Cranajour's reply was a comical grimace. He scratched his beard, remarking finally:
"I have forgotten! I don't know!"
His audience burst into roars of laughter: Fandor laughed loudest of all!
One of Maître Henri Robart's juniors whispered in Fandor's ear, with an air of giving the journalist a piece of information worth having.
"A simple-minded soul, that!—a kind of idiot! You can guess that, at the preliminary inquiry, they soon found that out!... He may be heard—or he may not?"
Fandor nodded. He found it difficult not to laugh.
"Thanks many for the information," he stammered. The young barrister did not understand the ironical tone of our journalist.
Mother Toulouche was envying Cranajour.
"You're in luck, you are—to be too silly to go and talk to those inquisitive fellows in there! Eh?"
Conversations stopped. The little low door, giving entrance to the court, had just opened: an usher announced: