He stammered no more, having now got into touch with his carefully prepared phrases. Leaning against the mantelpiece, he spoke in measured tones, taking a piece of paper from his pocket and referring to it now and then. Thérèse was no longer frightened; she wanted to laugh: he was ridiculous,--a purely comic figure. She cared little for what he was saying in that disgusting accent of his that made every one laugh except at Saint Clair. She would go. Why all this melodrama? It would not have mattered in the least if this fool had disappeared from the ranks of living men. She noticed his ill-kept nails against the paper that shook in his hands: he had no cuffs on his shirt, he was one of those absurd oafs who are out of their proper station, and whose lives are of no value to anything or anybody. It is only from habit that one attaches infinite importance to a man’s existence. Robespierre was right: and Napoleon, and Lenin.... He saw her smile: lost his temper, raised his voice, and she was obliged to listen: “I’ve got you; do you understand? You will have to obey what the Family has decided, or else....” “Or else ... what?” She no longer troubled to feign indifference: she assumed a tone of bravado and mockery: “Too late!” she cried. “You have given evidence in my favour: you can’t go back on it. You will be convicted of perjury....” “Another piece of evidence can always be discovered. I have such a further proof in my desk. There is no statute of limitations for evidence, thank God!” She shuddered: “What do you want of me?” she asked. He consulted his notes, and for a few seconds Thérèse sat listening to the stupendous silence of Argelouse. The hour of cock-crow was yet far off: no living water flowed in that desert, not a breath of wind moved the countless tree-tops. “I am not giving way to any personal considerations. I am disregarding myself: the Family alone counts. The interests of the Family have always dictated all my decisions. I have consented for the honour of the Family, to cheat the justice of my country. God will be my judge.” * * * * * This pompous tone made Thérèse feel ill. She felt like asking him to express himself more simply. “It is of importance, for the sake of the Family, that the world should think our relations all they should be, and that I should not seem to throw any doubt upon your innocence. On the other hand, I want to protect myself as far as possible....” “Are you afraid of me, Bernard?”