“ You came to me last week, in the night, at two o’clock, the day I was with you in the morning! Confess it was you!”

“Last week? In the night? Have you gone cracked, my good friend?”

Hippolyte paused and considered a moment. Then a smile of cunning⁠—almost triumph⁠—crossed his lips.

“It was you,” he murmured, almost in a whisper, but with absolute conviction. “Yes, it was you who came to my room and sat silently on a chair at my window for a whole hour⁠—more! It was between one and two at night; you rose and went out at about three. It was you , you ! Why you should have frightened me so, why you should have wished to torment me like that, I cannot tell⁠—but you it was.”