(Mme. Catherine is too startled to say a word.)

Maurice.  Then you are angry at me? [Looks around] What does all this mean?  Is it a dream, or what is it?  Of course, I can see that it is all real, but it looks like a wax cabinet—­There is Jeanne, looking like a statue and dressed in black—­And Henriette looking like a corpse—­What does it mean?

(All remain silent.)

Maurice.  Nobody answers.  It must mean something dreadful. [Silence] But speak, please!  Adolphe, you are my friend, what is it? [Pointing to Emile] And there is a detective!

Adolphe. [Comes forward] You don’t know then?

Maurice.  Nothing at all.  But I must know!

Adolphe.  Well, then—­Marion is dead.

Maurice.  Marion—­dead?

Adolphe.  Yes, she died this morning.

Maurice. [To Jeanne] So that’s why you are in mourning.  Jeanne,
Jeanne, who has done this to us?

Jeanne.  He who holds life and death in his hand.

Maurice.  But I saw her looking well and happy this morning.  How did it happen?  Who did it?  Somebody must have done it? [His eyes seek Henriette.]

Adolphe.  Don’t look for the guilty one here, for there is none to he found.  Unfortunately the police have turned their suspicion in a direction where none ought to exist.

Maurice.  What direction is that?

Adolphe.  Well—­you may as well know that, your reckless talk last night and this morning has placed you in a light that is anything but favourable.

Maurice, So they were listening to us.  Let me see, what were we saying—­I remember!—­Then I am lost!

Adolphe.  But if you explain your thoughtless words we will believe you.

Maurice.  I cannot!  And I will not!  I shall be sent to prison, but it doesn’t matter.  Marion is dead!  Dead!  And I have killed her!

(General consternation.)

Adolphe.  Think of what you are saying!  Weigh your words!  Do you realise what you said just now?

Maurice.  What did I say?

Adolphe.  You said that you had killed Marion.

Maurice.  Is there a human being here who could believe me a murderer, and who could hold me capable of taking my own child’s life?  You who know me, Madame Catherine, tell me:  do you believe, can you believe—­

Mme. Catherine.  I don’t know any longer what to believe.  What the heart thinketh the tongue speaketh.  And your tongue has spoken evil words.

Maurice.  She doesn’t believe me!

Adolphe.  But explain your words, man!  Explain what you meant by saying that “your love would kill everything that stood in its way.”

Maurice.  So they know that too—­Are you willing to explain it, Henriette?