part, that I sent for you," she said, "in order that you might
establish it."

Saniel appeared not to comprehend.

"I, Madame?"

"Yes. When you came herewith Monsieur Balzajette a few hours ago,
you must have observed that I examined you in a way that was scarcely
natural. Before the lamps were lighted, and when you turned your back
to the daylight, I tried in vain to remember where I had seen you. I was
certain that I found in you some points of resemblance to a physiognomy
I had known, but the name attached to this physiognomy escaped me. When
you returned, and I saw you more clearly by lamplight, my recollections
became more exact; when I raised the lamp-shade the light struck you
full in the face, and then your eyes, so characteristic, and at the same
time a violent contraction of your features, made me recall the name.
This physiognomy, these eyes, this face, belonged to the man whom from
this place" she pointed to the window--"I saw draw Monsieur Caffies
curtains."

Saniel did not flinch.

"This is a resemblance that would be hard for me," he said, "if your
memory were faithful."

"I tell myself that it may not be. And after the first feeling of
surprise which made me cry out, I was confirmed in this thought on
recalling the fact that you did not wear the long hair and blond beard
that the man wore who drew the curtains; but at that moment Monsieur
Balzajette spoke of the hair and beard that you had had cut. I was
prostrated. However, I had the strength to ask if you had had any
business with Monsieur Caffie. Do you remember your answer?"

"Perfectly."

"After your departure I experienced a cruel anguish. It was you whom I
had seen draw the curtains, and it could not be you. I tried to think
what I ought to do--to inform the judge or to ask you for an interview.
For a long time I wavered. At length I decided on the interview, and I
wrote to you."

"I have come at your call, but I declare that I do not know what to
reply to this strange communication. You believe that you recognize in
me the man who drew the curtains."

"I recognize you."

"Then what do you wish me to say? It is not a consultation that you ask
of me?"

She believed she understood the meaning of this reply and divined its
end.

"The question does not concern me," she said, "neither my moral nor
mental state, but yourself. My eyes, my memory, my conscience, bring a
frightful accusation against you. I cannot believe my eyes or my me