HENRIETTE.  “And the Lord God said unto the woman—­”

A GUARD. [In uniform, speaking very politely] Sorry, but the garden has to be closed.

(Curtain.)

SECOND SCENE

(The Cremerie.  MME. CATHERINE is sitting at the counter making entries into an account book.  ADOLPHE and HENRIETTE are seated at a table.)

ADOLPHE. [Calmly and kindly] But if I give you my final assurance that I didn’t run away, but that, on the contrary, I thought you had played me false, this ought to convince you.

HENRIETTE.  But why did you fool us by saying that those fellows were not policemen?

ADOLPHE.  I didn’t think myself that they were, and then I wanted to reassure you.

HENRIETTE.  When you say it, I believe you.  But then you must also believe me, if I reveal my innermost thoughts to you.

ADOLPHE.  Go on.

HENRIETTE.  But you mustn’t come back with your usual talk of fancies and delusions.

ADOLPHE.  You seem to have reason to fear that I may.

HENRIETTE.  I fear nothing, but I know you and your scepticism—­
Well, and then you mustn’t tell this to anybody—­promise me!

ADOLPHE.  I promise.

HENRIETTE.  Now think of it, although I must say it’s something terrible:  I have partial evidence that Maurice is guilty, or at least, I have reasonable suspicions—­

ADOLPHE.  You don’t mean it!

HENRIETTE.  Listen, and judge for yourself.  When Maurice left me in the Bois, he said he was going to see Marion alone, as the mother was out.  And now I have discovered afterward that he did meet the mother.  So that he has been lying to me.

ADOLPHE.  That’s possible, and his motive for doing so may have been the best, but how can anybody conclude from it that he is guilty of a murder?

HENRIETTE.  Can’t you see that?—­Don’t you understand?

ADOLPHE.  Not at all.

HENRIETTE.  Because you don’t want to!—­Then there is nothing left for me but to report him, and we’ll see whether he can prove an alibi.

ADOLPHE.  Henriette, let me tell you the grim truth.  You, like he, have reached the border line of—­insanity.  The demons of distrust have got hold of you, and each of you is using his own sense of partial guilt to wound the other with.  Let me see if I can make a straight guess:  he has also come to suspect you of killing his child?

HENRIETTE.  Yes, he’s mad enough to do so.

ADOLPHE.  You call his suspicions mad, but not your own.

HENRIETTE.  You have first to prove the contrary, or that I suspect him unjustly.

ADOLPHE.  Yes, that’s easy.  A new autopsy has proved that Marion died of a well-known disease, the queer name of which I cannot recall just now.

HENRIETTE.  Is it true?

ADOLPHE.  The official report is printed in today’s paper.