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The incident recalled was one that he would fain have forgotten, one the truth of which he intended at all hazards to conceal. "I admit that I went to Thillot in secret," he answered in a changed voice. "Ah! Then you do not deny that you were attracted by the promises of substantial payment for certain forged English notes which you could furnish, eh?" grunted Bézard in satisfaction.
"I admit going to Thillot, but I deny your allegation," cried Paul in quick protest. "Then perhaps you will tell us the reason you took that early drive?" asked a commissaire, with a short, hard laugh of disbelief. The prisoner hesitated. It was a purely personal matter, one which concerned himself alone.
However, cannot you give us some explanation of that secret visit of yours to Thillot? Remember, you have to prove your innocence!" "I I cannot not, at least, at present," faltered the prisoner. "You refuse?" "Yes, m'sieur, I flatly refuse," was the hoarse reply. "As I have told you, that visit concerned the honour of a woman."
That was quite correct. "Well, Sister," I laughed. "I have no recollection of saying that, but it is perfectly true. It seems that only this morning I regained consciousness." "Professor Thillot said you would. Others gave you up, but he declared that after careful nursing your memory would regain its normal balance." "Who is Professor Thillot?" "The great nerve specialist of Paris.
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