"It is nobody's fault!" protested the young barrister.
"That is to say," retorted Fandor, "it is everybody's fault! By Jove! If you let innocent prisoners hang themselves in their cells, I am no longer surprised that you leave the guilty at liberty to walk the streets at their sweet will!"
"Don't make a joke of it, old boy!... You understand, of course, that so far no one in the Palais has seen the letter! It has just been brought to the Public Prosecutor's office by Madame de Vibray's solicitor, Maître Gérin. You came on the scene only a few minutes after I had sent up the original to the examining magistrate. The case is in Fuselier's hands."
"Is he in his office?"
"Certainly! He should proceed with the examination relative to poor Dollon this morning."
"Very well then, I will go up. I shall jolly soon get out of this booby of a Fuselier the information I need to make one of the best reports I have ever written. And you know, I am ever so obliged to you for the matter you've given me! But, mind you, I am going to put together a bit of copy that will not deal tenderly with our gentlemen of the robe—the lot of you! No, it is a bad, unlucky business enough, but it is even more funny—it is tragi-comedy!"
"For my part ..." began Fandor's barrister friend.
"Yes, yes! Good day, Pontius Pilate!" cried Fandor. "I am going up to Fuselier.... We must meet to-morrow!"
Hastening along the corridors, Fandor gained the office of the examining magistrate.