h amuses itself. The easy life is the most difficult for
those who have no fortune. And, according to these notes--I refer to
them again--of fortune you have none."

"That is to say," interrupted Dantin, brusquely, "it would be very
possible that, in order to obtain money for my needs, in order to steal
the funds in his iron safe, I would assassinate my friend?"

M. Ginory did not allow himself to display any emotion at the insolent
tone of these words, which had burst forth, almost like a cry. He looked
Dantin full in the face, and with his hands crossed upon his notes, he
said:

"Monsieur, in a matter of criminal investigation a Magistrate, eager for
the truth ought to admit that anything is possible, even probable, but
in this case I ought to recognize the fact that you have not helped me
in my task. A witness finds you tete-a-tete with the victim and
surprises your trouble at the moment when you are examining Rovere's
papers. I ask what it was that happened between you, you reply that that
is your secret, and for explanation you give me your word of honor that
it had nothing whatever to do with the murder. You would yourself think
that I was very foolish if I insisted any longer. True, there was no
trace of any violence in the apartment, whatever subtraction may have
been made from the safe. It appears that you are in a position to know
the combination; it appears, also, that you are certainly in need of
money; as clearly known as it is possible to learn in a hurried inquiry
such as has been made, while you have been here. I question you. I let
you know what you ought to know, and you fly into a passion. And note
well! it is you yourself, in your anger and your violence, who speaks
first the word of which I have not pronounced a syllable. It is you who
have jumped straight to a logical conclusion of the suppositions which
are still defective, without doubt, but are not the less suppositions;
yes, it is you who say that with a little logic one can certainly accuse
you of the murder of the one whom you called your friend."

Each word brought to Dantin's face an angry or a frightened expression,
and the more slowly M. Ginory spoke, the more measured his words,
emphasizing his verbs, with a sort of professional habit, as a surgeon
touches a wound with a steel instrument, the questioned man, put through
a sharp cross-examination, experienced a frightful anger, a strong
internal struggle, which made the blood rush to h