her contempt for Mme. Dauvray,
grew into a very delirium. But it was a delirium she had the cunning to
conceal. She lived at white heat, but to all the world she had lost
nothing of her calm.

Celia did not foresee the hatred she was arousing; nor, on the other
hand, did she foresee the overwhelming effect of these spiritualistic
seances on Mme. Dauvray. Celia had never been brought quite close to
the credulous before.

"There had always been the row of footlights," she said. "I was on the
platform; the audience was in the hall; or, if it was at a house, my
father made the arrangements. I only came in at the last moment, played
my part, and went away. It was never brought home to me that some
amongst these people really and truly believed. I did not think about
it. Now, however, when I saw Mme. Dauvray so feverish, so excited, so
firmly convinced that great ladies from the spirit world came and spoke
to her, I became terrified. I had aroused a passion which I had not
suspected. I tried to stop the seances, but I was not allowed. I had
aroused a passion which I could not control. I was afraid that Mme.
Dauvray's whole life--it seems absurd to those who did not know her,
but those who did will understand--yes, her whole life and happiness
would be spoilt if she discovered that what she believed in was all a
trick."

She spoke with a simplicity and a remorse which it was difficult to
disbelieve. M. Fleuriot, the judge, now at last convinced that the
Dreyfus affair was for nothing in the history of this crime, listened
to her with sympathy.

"That is your explanation, mademoiselle," he said gently. "But I must
tell you that we have another."

"Yes, monsieur?" Celia asked.

"Given by Helene Vauquier," said Fleuriot.

Even after these days Celia could not hear that woman's name without a
shudder of fear and a flinching of her whole body. Her face grew white,
her lips dry.

"I know, monsieur, that Helene Vauquier is not my friend," she said. "I
was taught that very cruelly."

"Listen, mademoiselle, to what she says," said the judge, and he read
out to Celia an extract or two from Hanaud's report of his first
interview with Helene Vauquier in her bedroom at the Villa Rose.

"You hear what she says. 'Mme. Dauvray would have had seances all day,
but Mlle. Celie pleaded that she was left exhausted at the end of them.
But Mlle. Celie was of an address.' And again, speaking of Mme.
Dauvray's queer craze that the spirit