For myself, I am able neither to
think or feel. I felt an infinite contempt for myself.
"It was the first time that Frederic Larsan, like myself, found
himself face to face with Mademoiselle Stangerson since the attack
in The Yellow Room. Like me, he had insisted on being allowed to
question the unhappy lady; but he had not, any more than had I, been
permitted. To him, as to me, the same answer had always been given:
Mademoiselle Stangerson was too weak to receive us. The questionings
of the examining magistrate had over-fatigued her. It was evidently
intended not to give us any assistance in our researches. I was not
surprised; but Frederic Larsan had always resented this conduct. It
is true that he and I had a totally different theory of the crime.
"I still catch myself repeating from the depths of my heart: 'Save
her!--save her without his speaking!' Who is he--the murderer?
Take him and shut his mouth. But Monsieur Darzac made it clear that
in order to shut his mouth he must be killed. Have I the right to
kill Mademoiselle Stangerson's murderer? No, I had not.
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